Encounter With the Divine, Series No. 1
When I was little I wanted to be a ballerina. Mostly because of the princess-like costumes but when I look back on that fantasy now, I recognize my attraction to the idea of movement and this notion that you could be trained to move in such a way - with power and strength and grace. That one could “become” such a thing was innately woven into the longing to be a ballerina. I wasn't born into royalty like a princess, but I could learn to move. I started lessons considerably “late” at 7 years old. My mom found a local studio run by a woman named Mitzi Holden. She had dark hair and always wore a high waisted pleated silk skirt over black leggings, black ballet flats, and a button down shirt tied in a knot at the waist. She handmade all the costumes for every performance, taught all the classes (except a few taught by her oldest daughter), and hosted dress up tea parties at her house. She comped classes that we couldn’t afford and drove us to performances my parents couldn’t get us to. And I’ve never seen anyone move lighter on their feet.
I say all this to relate that my creative expression began as movement. Learning to move and learning to see are two things that I was lovingly taught and continue to learn through practice today.
I go back to the theme of movement and the body often in my work. We say so much with our bodies, things that cannot be expressed otherwise through words whether we like it or mean to or not.
Encounter With the Divine, No. 1 // Acrylic and soft pastel on canvas, set in a custom maple wood frame // 14×18” // 2026
One thing I’ve been perplexed by for years now after an illness in my mid twenties is how my mind can at times be completely unaware of something that is currently being experienced in my body. I was sick for a long time before I knew it, which now I realize is the way of most illnesses, physical or otherwise. A practice in movement is what helped me heal from that illness and is part of what sustains me now. It’s the means through which I reconnect my physical wiring, become aware of myself, and learn what I am exactly - which is a thing always in flux.
These images of “Divine Encounters” are rooted in this idea of disconnection and rewiring. It baffles me how my physical actions and behaviors can at times be unaware of various group “discussions” being held in my head. These ongoing conversations I have with the committee of selves, so to speak, are like a holiday family dinner. Lots of arguing and speculating, judging, and somewhere deep and quiet is the loving part too, which is why we’re all there in the first place. As I get older and better at asking for help I’ve come to know these folks at the table a bit better. Our arguments have become agreements to disagree or even compromise - and some of my foes have become friends and some I’ve learned to stand up to.
Encounter With the Divine, No. 2 // Acrylic and soft pastel on canvas, set in a custom maple wood frame // 14×18” // 2026
There’s a story in the Bible about someone, Jacob maybe? Who wrestles in the night with an angel which he or maybe just the reader comes to realize after the fact that he was actually wrestling with God himself. I feel like that’s what's happening up there in my brain half the time - this unending knock down drag out between the innate love and forgiveness and compromise and awareness - with the learned low down dirty doubts and fears and judgements.. It becomes exhausting at times, crippling even.
Thankfully I’ve come to this point where when I (finally) see it for what it is, it's laughable, soft, tender even. Like when my sister and I, who shared a bedroom until we both left for college, would find ourselves, as teenagers - too old for this behavior by most standards - violently rolling around on the floor over a sweater worn without permission to the point that we were so bruised and tired and mad that all we could do was laugh. And then there was so much laughing. And now all we do together is laugh - even when we’re crying we’re laughing. She said these drawings made her think of her three sons fighting each other. And we laughed about that too.
Encounter With the Divine, No. 3 // Acrylic and soft pastel on canvas, set in a custom maple wood frame // 20×20” // 2026
So here’s to movement and connection and the Divine and laughter and all that low down dirty stuff that comes with it too.
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