There is a version of your life that feels like yours.

Not performed. Not polished. Not waiting for the right moment, the right permission, or until you’ve finally become some perfectly healed version of yourself.

Just yours.

Led by what pulls at you. Held by community. Lit from the inside out.

I spent much of my life learning what it takes to find my way back to that kind of life, and building spaces where others can do the same.

I am a writer, poet, textile artist, creative coach, and community builder whose work keeps circling the same question: What becomes possible when we stop abandoning the parts of ourselves that make us feel most alive?

My watercolor embroidery finds beauty in the mundane: the quiet, overlooked, deeply human parts of being a person. My writing does much the same. I’m not particularly interested in making life look prettier than it was. I’m interested in telling the truth about it, holding the light and the hard parts in the same hand, and seeing what can be made from there.

That philosophy carries into my work with other creatives, too.

As a trained life coach specializing in art wellness, I work with artists, makers, writers, small business owners, and creative humans who feel something calling them but aren’t always sure how to make room for it.

Through one-on-one coaching and The Makers Huddle, I help people get to the heart of their creativity, reconnect with what matters to them, and build a creative life that actually feels like theirs.

My work isn’t about fixing yourself.

It’s about becoming curious enough to discover what is already there.

And a lot of my work happens around a table, in a garden, inside an art market, or wherever people are willing to gather.

I created the yART Sale, a local community art market, and have helped build projects including The Table and Inspire Play Collective. Across all of them, I keep creating spaces where artists, makers, small business owners, and wonderfully curious humans can make things, meet one another, try something new, and feel a little less alone.

Because community has never felt separate from creativity to me.

Sometimes what changes us is making the art.

Sometimes it’s finally sharing it.

And sometimes it’s realizing someone else has been sitting across the table wondering the exact same thing you have.

I am also a mom to three kids, a two-time poetry slam winner, and an educator who has taught at the University of Utah, Weber State University, and in countless less-formal rooms filled with people trying to make something meaningful.

I am currently in the throes of finishing my poetry collection, The Death of Us, and I write essays and reflections on Substack about creativity, identity, becoming, and the strange work of building a life that belongs to you.

Underneath all of it, the art, the writing, the coaching, the events, is the same belief:

We are meant to make things.

We are meant to know ourselves.

And we are not meant to do either entirely alone.

You belong here. Exactly as you are.