I grew up surrounded by storytellers... not just those who spoke, but

those who showed. Even the silent ones could stir hearts with a glance, a

gesture, a pause. Their stories lived in body language, in presence, in

feeling. There are beautiful moments in my own life — raw, complex,

hard to shape into words...where language falls short. That’s when I turn

to my journal, to digital creation, to visual stories. Every creation holds a

story, even if it’s not told out loud. It’s the beginning of something

 

a memory, a shift, a healing.

​

My art begins where language

ends...