The Aurora Collection
A brand new collection on canvas.
I wanted to explore fate, destiny, and the guidance of the stars and divine in our lives. I made these paintings while preparing for my first child to cross into this realm.
As my daughter prepares to enter this world, I'm creating paths of safety and joy to protect her on her journey.
Every piece is painted in soft, delicate shades of lavender, periwinkle, and aurora and illuminated with sparkling silver cathedral detail.
I hope you'll enjoy my new work and all the love
I put into it.
4 large originals | 6 mini originals | 8 mini tapestries
This has been a really hard year for my family.
We've faced challenges I thought we'd never face. We faced the realities of IVF and the fear of the unknown. My heart was broken last year again and again. Yet I knew good things would come of this.
This year was a test of trust for me. It was a practice in patience and positivity. There were days I could barely face, and there were days of immeasurable beauty.
Every time I went to my studio to paint,
I asked, "What is next?"
Every time my hands moved the water and pigment,
my heart asked the stars, the divine,
"Where do I go from here?"
As I dipped my brush in glittering paint, lining each of the stars and moons in delicate, precise detail,
my heart asked, "How do I keep going?
Where is this road taking me?
I feel completely lost."
And the divine answered again and again with a kind, firm voice:
"You are not lost."
This collection has solidified the truth of my work: I am a mixed media artist.
Don't ask me why, but I used to think of mixed media artists as those people who cut and pasted collages together.
I didn't think of them as interesting or deep or even well-trained artists.
And, as the story goes, I've slowly found myself becoming a mixed media artist against my will.
It's challenged what I think of as art and artist.
Acrylic was always too quick-drying and opaque for me. It always felt like I was running against the clock and fighting with the paint to color match.
Oil was too slow-drying and cerebral to work with. There was never enough room for play, exploration, or release of control.
Watercolor was closer - I could play, I could release control, and I could layer translucency, but I was always fighting with the paper.