The Heartbeat of My Studio

​There’s a rhythm to my studio—one not just created by the brushstrokes on canvas, but by the laughter, curiosity, and boundless energy of my kids. The space where I create is not just mine; it’s shared with the little hands that reach for markers, the small feet that shuffle across the floor, and the imaginations that see beyond what I put on the canvas.

Having my kids in the studio while I paint isn’t a distraction—it’s an inspiration. But more times than not, I didn’t get much painting done at all. Someone always needed more paint, a fresh brush, or help washing the colors from their fingers. The studio became less of a solitary sanctuary and more of a shared playground of creativity. And looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing.

What an amazing opportunity I’ve had—to foster their creativity, to show them what it means to do something you love, and in the process, to see my own journey unfold. When I look back at my art, especially my body of work Roaming House: a journey home (view it here), I don’t just see a collection of paintings. I see years of growth, of pushing through creative blocks, of finding my way home through paint and canvas.

Art has always been about connection, and having my kids beside me while I worked—whether they were painting next to me or making a mess of their own—was the most profound expression of that. They are not just watching; they are part of the process, part of the story. And maybe, just maybe, one day they’ll find their own way to express the colors that live inside of them.