I know the exact moment that I realized I wasn’t an artist.

It was during my fourth grade science period. Our homework assignment was worksheet, which had the left side of a human skeleton printed on it to draw the matching right side of the human skeletal system, I got a D-.

I didn’t have an artistic bone in my body [see what I did there?]

My dad had an old Nikon SLR he gave me, and I learned to take photos with black and white film. Somehow, almost anything you shoot in black and white becomes artistic and when you spend time in the darkroom developing your own prints, you become a photographer.

I am a photographer.

Last year, I painted to express myself and as part of self care only for me. I started painting almost every day. I painted on canvases, watercolor paper, glass photo frames and in old books that I use as journals. I also painted on many pieces of my clothing.

I realized as I posted some of my projects and paintings to Instagram that I was developing a following and that people enjoyed looking at my artwork and were excited to see what I posted next.

I am an abstract artist, photographer, maker, and a mental health advocate.

Even though I started painting to help me process things, I now live to create art that infuses color into your world.