top of page

   I was born to a gloriously messy human family, connected across vast distances; a french father, north american mother, a grandmother so unique as to be alien. A giant web of relatives. Sisters, brother. They, their trials and travels, shaped me. Much of my childhood was spent journeying from one continent to another, a feat made possible by these people and their sweat, and their anger, and their love. 

   At my nine years of age, we relocated to what was to me an alien planet, a hot wet jungle of unknowns and unwanted; Brazil. A place I have come to love despite, or perhaps because of, it's wild and pulsing flaws. Much like my family. Much like me. 

   Through the many crackings, crushings and breakings that have been my life, I have come to know in myself a deep and beating aliveness that shocks me, awes me, terrifies and inspires me. I can't help but express it, or else I would both implode and explode. 

   I have spent most of my life feeling alien. Feeling other. Feeling like my humanness was a curse, a punishment, my storming emotions a flaw to be hated. This still overwhelms me sometimes. But I have come to see myself through the cracks in my skin, to find myself through the breaks in my brain. And in that finding, I have come to see myself reflected in others. In all the aliveness. And it is beautiful. So if by expressing, and sharing, my mess and my chaos, I can reflect one person back to themselves, and they can find their own beauty through mine, their own pain and joy and hurt and love seen and valued, my journey will be all the more worth it. This connection has saved me. I hope to pass it forward.  

Watercolor artist

bottom of page