For a long time, my art supplies gathered dust
As a little girl in elementary school, I lived with charcoal on my fingers and paint in my hair. My third-grade art teachers used to stand over my desk, whispering in awe, and back then, I was certain I'd never do anything else. But life has a way of changing directions.
After high school, "adulting" took over. I needed to pay bills, find my footing, and make a living. So, I packed up my sketchbooks and quietly tucked my creative dreams into a drawer for nearly fifteen years.
The return of a passion
When I finally went back to college in my thirties, I felt a familiar tug. I signed up for an art minor, stepping back into the studio with a mix of nerves and excitement. One afternoon, my professor introduced us to soft pastels. I’d never held them before. I had a photo of a gorgeous husky named Patches, who belonged to another professor, Doris. Her husband, John, had taken a photograph of Patches standing against a silent, snowy background. She had these intense, soulful eyes that seemed to look right through the lens.
The second my fingers touched that pigment, something clicked. I didn't just paint Patches, I felt like I was bringing her home. The pure, deep colors blended under my fingertips so easily, letting me shape the soft, heavy texture of her coat. By the time I finished, I knew my life had shifted. That first portrait of Patches sparked a chain reaction of requests from friends and family, and I realized I had found my true calling.
Connection through art
I look at the world around me: the people, the animals, the quiet corners of nature -and I'm constantly reminded of a bigger picture. God created this beautiful world, and I feel incredibly blessed to use the hands and the talent He gave me to capture a tiny piece of it on paper. When I sit down to draw your companion, my goal isn't to make a pretty copy of a photograph. I want to build a portrait that feels alive. I want you to look at the wall and feel like those faithful eyes are watching over you, keeping you safe and keeping you company, just like they always have.
Our pets are the heart of our homes, yet they're only given a fraction of our lifespan to spend with us. It’s a heartbreaking reality of loving an animal. They stay with us for a season, but they leave pawprints on our hearts forever. Whether I’m working on a happy birthday surprise or a tender memorial, I understand the weight of the emotions I’m holding in my hands. I treat every portrait with absolute reverence because I know I am painting a member of your family.
My own daily reminder of this love sits right under my easel. Her name is Phoebe, a feisty Brittany who keeps my husband Bert and me laughing. While I work, she’s usually curled up at my feet, occasionally looking up with that signature, heart-melting stare that makes me pause just to scratch her ears. Because I know the deep joy and the inevitable ache of loving an animal, I paint with a heart full of empathy. I’ve been in your shoes. I know what it’s like to miss a companion, and I know the magic of opening a gift that captures their true spirit. That's the love I bring to the easel with me, every single day.
