My artist journey really started in the latter half of 2019 when my family and I moved from New York City to Seattle. I had made art every now and then since I was a child, but much of my adult life in NYC was too busy with full-time work, multiple start-ups, and raising young kids to leave room for creative expression. After the move, life became much quieter. The start-ups failed, my friendship with our co-founder ended in heartbreak, and then the pandemic descended upon us all.
In the silence that followed, I started to see beauty in dry weeds. Every plant is special and beautiful to me, but I have a particular attraction to a yellowed, feathery fern or gnarled, twisty vine. I began to collect bundles wherever I went, especially when traveling. One bundle came from a bleak English landscape in November. Another from Siberia near my in-laws favorite camping spots. We were driving along and happened to come upon these vast, dry plains of grass. I was dumbstruck.
My family eventually had to drive off and leave me to frenzied collecting. Eventually, they came back to pick me up. To my mother-in-laws dismay, I had an armful of what looked like worthless weeds and a determination to fly with them all the way back to Seattle.