Letting Go of the Grid
There was a time when I thought I had to organize my work the way other artists do — by medium, by size, by style. Digital in one folder, acrylics in another. But it never felt right. I’d scroll through everything and just feel… disconnected.
I knew I was creating from a deep place. But when I looked at my work grouped that way, it felt like a filing cabinet — not a story.
It wasn’t until recently that I allowed myself to approach it differently. I started looking at what I was feeling during the process of creating each piece — the energy, the emotional current, the state of mind I was in. And that changed everything.
Listening to the Work
Some pieces started speaking louder when I looked at them this way.
Melting (2013)
Melting (2013) suddenly hit me as a visual self-portrait — not of my face, but of how I felt inside at the time: fragmented, searching, trying to hold my identity together while it slipped through. It captured my struggle to find identity — not just as an artist, but as a person navigating trauma, masking, and meaning.
She (2009)
She (2009), a digital piece created in Illustrator during a phase when I was exploring spirals, brought back memories of masking heavily in social situations, of struggling to feel understood. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was channeling my neurodivergent self in ways that only my art could reveal.
Those two pieces — along with others I hadn’t fully processed — gave rise to the first emotional collection I created: Transmission. It holds struggle, frustration, and the kind of spiritual friction that demands to be felt.
From Chaos to Connection
This is the first time I’ve looked at my body of work not just as scattered expressions, but as emotional phases. And honestly, it’s been a deeply moving experience. Some works reconnected me to parts of myself I thought I’d moved on from — only to realize they were still part of my story.
I created three core collections based on this process:
- Transmission — for the heavy emotions, the energy moving through me
- Root & Bloom — for the quieter moments of growth, entanglement, and healing
- Celestial Flow — for the abstract, cosmic, symbolic parts of me that feel bigger than just this world
Each collection tells a story not of material or trend, but of movement — emotional, energetic, and deeply human.
For Artists Who Don’t Fit Into Boxes
Celestial Bloom (2025)
If you’re an artist who doesn’t fit into neat boxes — especially if you're neurodivergent or multidisciplinary — I want to say:
“You’re not scattered. You’re layered.”
You might find that your truest “style” is a frequency — not a format. That was true for me.
Try asking your work what it’s trying to say, not what it’s made of. That single question shifted everything.
To purchase artwork featured in this post, visit the links below:
