I’ve always known I was creative.
Even as a child, I was building, crafting, painting, finding joy in creating with my hands. That was my happiest place. Not because anyone told me it mattered, but because something in me needed to create. It was never about learning to be an artist. It was always about remembering that I already was.
I’m a self-taught artist, but honestly, it’s less about teaching and more about listening. Listening to what I need, what the moment asks of me, what the materials want to say. My art is a reflection of who I am and who I’m becoming. It shifts and changes because I do too.
“I’m drawn to organic shapes, soft neutrals, natural textures. I work with wool, linen, paper, ink, and oil.”
Rooted in Nature, Always Evolving
Nature has always been my compass. I’m drawn to organic shapes, soft neutrals, natural textures. I work with wool, linen, paper, ink, and oil. Sometimes I’ll blend cold wax or weave in thread. It depends on how I’m feeling or what the piece is asking for.
I’ve never been interested in perfection. I’m more interested in what feels true. I love the unevenness, the wispy lines, the imperfections. They remind me that nothing needs to be fixed. We’re all growing. We’re all in process. And that’s more than enough.
My work is grounded in nature, but it’s also inspired by whatever’s happening in the moment. It’s always changing, but it always comes back to that sense of connection. To the earth, to stillness, to beauty that doesn’t shout
Some days it’s soft and meditative, other times it’s messy and emotional.
Art Is Healing for Me
My art practice is deeply intuitive. I don’t plan much. I follow the feeling. Some days it’s soft and meditative, other times it’s messy and emotional. But every time I sit down to create, I feel more connected to myself.
It’s healing for me.
It’s how I process what’s going on inside.
And if that healing somehow reaches someone else; If they feel something when they look at one of my pieces; That’s the best kind of magic.
I Want My Art to Speak
I believe art should tell a story, stir a memory, or evoke a feeling. Even if it’s one you can’t quite name. I don’t want to just make something pretty. I want to make something true. Something that meets people where they are.
If someone is moved by my work, even if they don’t know why, that’s everything to me. I want it to feel like a mirror, or a gentle companion, or a doorway into something deeper.
I want it to feel like a mirror, or a gentle companion, or a doorway into something deeper.
This Is The Curated Life
Through The Curated Life, I’m weaving together everything I believe in. Art, beauty, healing, slow living, and intentional community. It’s not just a shop. It’s a philosophy. A space for meaningful things. A life designed with care.
I don’t want to live fast or loud. I want to live beautifully, truthfully, and in rhythm with what matters. That’s what my art is about. That’s what this life is about.
Closing Thought:
Being part of this artistic community is such a privilege. To stand beside other makers, dreamers, and storytellers who are also trying to make sense of this world through their hands. It keeps me grounded and inspired.
The Curated Life is, in many ways, the gallery of my soul. And my art… it’s just one expression of what’s always been inside me. I’m not just curating beauty. I’m creating it, living it, and becoming it, every single day.
Thank you for witnessing that.
Curator. Artist. Holistic living advocate.
I created The Curated Life as a sanctuary for intentional living. Where art, design, wellness, and soulful practices meet. With roots in both natural health and creative expression, my work is about curating not just spaces, but lives that feel deeply aligned.
Here, I share reflections, rituals, and creations that speak to the heart and heal the spirit.
This isn’t about perfection. It’s about resonance.
Welcome home.
Search Blog
My dad is one of the most positive and joyful people I know. Curious about his constant optimism, I once asked him, “How do you stay so positive and encouraging all the time?” His response was surprisingly simple: “I just hate being miserable.” That answer made me pause. Could it really be that straightforward? Our mindset has the incredible power to shape our lives.
There’s something ancient in the handmade.
Something your body remembers, even if your mind has forgotten.
The weight of a ceramic mug, still warm from firing.
The brushstroke that doesn’t follow rules.
The cedar grain in a hand-built chair, whispering of trees and time.
In a world obsessed with convenience, handmade is a beautiful rebellion.
I’ve always known I was creative.
Even as a child, I was building, crafting, painting. Finding joy in creating with my hands. That was my happiest place. Not because anyone told me it mattered, but because something in me needed to create. It was never about learning to be an artist. It was always about remembering that I already was.
