I paint when I am happy. I paint when I am sad. I paint when I am uncertain, when I am hopeful, when I need to remember who I am. Painting does not change how I feel—it allows me to be fully present inside of it.

My art is a practice of grounding. It’s where I make sense of the tension between motion and belonging — between living in many places and searching for home. Through color, form, and gesture, I explore how identity is layered: personal, ancestral, spiritual. Each painting is a conversation between the visible and the invisible — between what I know and what I am still discovering.

The recurring motif of roots in my work represents both grounding and inheritance. It’s a reminder that strength can come from what lies beneath — the unseen stories, the generations of resilience, the soil of memory. My figures often lean, reach, or rest against these roots — a visual language for how we are supported by those who came before us.

I am deeply inspired by the landscapes and histories that have shaped my family—I am a daughter of the diaspora. At its heart, my work is about connection. About the space between roots and wings, between history and possibility. About the stories we inherit and the ones we choose to tell.

Whether through large-scale canvases or smaller works meant to be lived with — held, gifted, framed — my art is an offering. A reflection of what roots us, and a reminder that our stories, like our roots, can hold us through anything.

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