Who is Blue?

In the isolation days, I, just like the rest of the world, had fallen into a deeply depressive state of being. Stella Adler once said, “Life beats down and crushes the soul and art reminds you that you have one.” I slipped into a dull routine—endless scrolling, processed sugar, dim rooms, and a mind that forgot what daylight felt like. It was out of pure boredom that I decided to try sketching, because I had ruled out physical activity, grown sick of scrolling and binging shows, it was honestly such a random choice. I wasn’t a master on the first try—or the thousandth—but creation became oxygen. Art brought light back into my life. It wasn't intentional, but every time I drew, a new visualization of the pain I was feeling had leaked onto the page. I found it wonderful; it was teaching me about my mind and emotions while simultaneously expressing and filtering out the negative thoughts that plagued my mind. 

In 2020, when I began my journey as an artist, I can say the basis of my artistic skills were sub-par. As someone with a rambling imagination, but zero artistic eye when it comes to proportions and detail, I started off very abstract. Concept came easily; proportion and realism did not. So I practiced the thing that challenged me most. Over time, my work settled into a symbolic surrealism that balances the elements of abstract that come naturally to me, and the realism that I practice in order to expand my skills as an artist. I like to braid emotional expression, spirituality, and a devotion to Mother Nature. I paint female nudes entwined with leaves, trees, and flowers. To me, women stand as a powerful archetype of vulnerability, strength, rebirth, and oneness with the earth. I often work in a monochromatic purple palette, I use saturated violets that breed depth, mystery, and tenderness. 

I was born and raised in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, where the rugged beauty of Northern Ontario’s forests, lakes, and dramatic seasonal shifts cultivate a confrontation with patience and impermanence. Half the year, I’m in Barrie working as a skydiving coach—seeing my whole world from above, challenging my fears, and relaxing into the honest possibility of death. That surrender to the sky mirrors what I seek on canvas: trust, release, and the thin line where fear turns into awe. The grounded earth and the boundless sky are my two studios; their tension and harmony move through my compositions. 

My art is a gallery of the people I love and the experiences that changed me: grief of my grandmother, faded friendships, near death experiences, and much more. What began as escape has become inquiry. Through powerful composition and rich color, I try to translate raw feeling into form—to invite viewers to confront their own thresholds, to recognize how we are threaded into nature’s wisdom, and to sense, even briefly, the sacred that flickers in the present. Remember that humanity is not separate from the living world, but intricately woven into its tapestry.