My Art

Flowers are my inspiration. Within each tiny seed, life unfolds in the quiet and darkness of the earth. Nurtured by rain and sunlight, roots take hold, then a shoot emerges, and new life bursts forth. None of this happens because of anything the little seed has done. Each bloom is a gift, dependent upon God-ordained rhythms and seasons.

I recognize these same rhythms of aliveness in our own lives as endings flow into new beginnings, not disappearing but becoming part of what follows. Our relationships, experiences and memories, both cherished and heartbreaking, remain with us; the present is shaped by fragments of what came before. Together, these fragments become part of the beautiful fullness of what is now.

Looking at my paintings from across the room, you may recall flowers — organic forms blossoming alongside gestures that suggest stem, root, vine or petal. Or maybe you’re drawn to what the paint is doing: relationships between diverse media, passages that feel immediate beside those veiled within layers, and drips, splatters, or scratches that reveal the artist’s hand. Regardless of how you enter each work, my paintings resist a singular reading, instead inviting the eye to move, return and discover again.

My paintings are inspired by flowers. They celebrate the rhythms of aliveness.

“Flowers are allegories of consciousness.” — Novalis, Fragment 284

“Paintings are allegories of aliveness.” — Ellen Hathaway

My lover spoke and said to me, “Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, and come away with me.”

Song of Solomon 2:11

My Story

I grew up in a small town on the banks of the Pamlico River in Eastern North Carolina where Camellias bloom in winter. Along with this picture in my mind, one of my first memories is enjoying the feel of scratching a pin into our wood windowsills. This became my first awareness that we can respond to indescribable sensations by making beautiful marks with our hands.

My mother fanned this flame giving me an art box filled with colorful paint. My father suggested pursuing art in college. They understood this passion before I.

‍Fearing the vulnerability of exposing “my voice” within perceived ideas of the classroom setting, I didn’t major in art. With undergraduate degrees from Saint Mary’s College and UNC-CH, and a graduate degree from UVA, I worked in broadcast sales then taught kindergarten. I chose to stay home when our first daughter was born.

Life as expected. Not an ending but a new beginning.

Within a span of twenty-four months, my father died of cancer and our two daughters were born. In two more years I admitted I was powerless over the alcohol I’d become accustomed to gloss bouts of depression and anxiety. God’s love gave me hope, transforming my chaos and confusion into promise and renewal. This grace gives me aliveness: the freedom to love, forgive, and create.

It was during this season that my desire to draw and paint reawakened. The events of 9/11 refined my desires to a pursue my painting practice. Today I’m grateful for relationships with those who own my paintings, as well as those who help me share them . My work is found in private and public collections throughout the US. Living in Raleigh with my husband and blessed with our daughters’ growing families, I paint out of my Gateway Studio. Its a space where I connect with God, myself and then others through the paintings.