For the past few months, I’ve been diving deep into the world of wire sculpture, blending it with fiber art and weaving techniques to create something entirely unique. My journey has been of exploration and transformation, rooted in appreciation for color and texture. My background in art and illustration provided me with a foundational understanding of visual composition and the emotional resonance that color can evoke.
This foundation of painting and drawing had naturally evolved into my passion for weaving and tapestry making many years ago, where I found a unique medium to express my artistic vision. I like to think of it as painting with thread. The process is both challenging and exhilarating, pushing my hands in using wire and my mind to explore new dimensions and textures with yarn. Every twist of the wire, every thread woven into place, feels like a step toward bringing something raw and deeply personal into the world.
It’s been a journey of rediscovery, where the hours spent in my studio feel like a true expression of what I’ve always been meant to do. My hands, once restless with uncertainty and grief, now move with purpose and rhythm, as if the work has always been waiting for me to give it life.
My sister and her three children, age 6, 4, and 6 months old were murdered by gunpoint. Losing my sister and her children to a senseless act of domestic violence has changed me in ways that I could never have imagined. Their absence feels like an ache that sits in the depths of my heart, a wound that no time can fully heal. During their initial murder trial I was heavily pregnant and the pain and trauma of sitting through this caused me to go into early labor. My daughter Marigold, did not make it, she passed away in my arms shortly after labor. Each and every day, I’m reminded of the beautiful lives that were stolen far too soon from us, of the dreams they’ll never realize and the moments we’ll never share together.
All five of their deaths have reshaped how I see the world. It’s made me more aware of the silent suffering that so many go through, often hidden behind closed doors. There are moments when I find myself lost in waves of guilt and sadness, wishing I could have done more. This grief I carry is a constant reminder of their light and resilience, and while the pain is often overwhelming, their memory also fuels my commitment to raising awareness about domestic violence. I hope that by sharing my sister’s story, I can honor her in a way that brings some measure of healing, both to myself and to others who might be suffering in silence.
Creating this installation felt like a way to honor the memory of my sister Mary and her three young children, Kane, Rorrie, Colson and my daughter, Marigold. Her name Marigold, like the vibrant flower, symbolizes resilience and beauty that blooms even in the toughest of circumstances. The thought of her — her spirit, her light — keeps me grounded. Like the marigold, which grows strong and bright even in the harshest conditions, I’m learning to bloom again, to reclaim my strength and transform my pain into purpose. You will find all of their names embroidered in the leaves.
Combining the rigidity of wire with the fluidity of fiber allows me to create a balance that feels deeply aligned with who I am as an artist. I’m finally embracing the art that speaks to me on a different level, trusting that every knot, curve, and line of yarn brings me closer to the work I was always meant to create.
Through the trauma and heartache, I’ve worked tirelessly to heal, to fight against the darkness that has tried to swallow me whole. There have been days when I’ve felt like I might fall back into the shadow of grief, where every step forward feels like a battle. But every time I feel lost, I think of the marigold—its bold, unwavering presence in the face of adversity—it gives me the courage to keep going. I draw inspiration from nature and personal reflection. The natural world provides me with the palette of colors and textures that are so influential to me and my work, offering a peaceful refuge from the demands of everyday life. This connection allows me to recharge and reflect, enabling my art to flourish as I translate the beauty of the environment into woven structural forms.
Each woven piece is a tapestry of not just thread, but of experiences, memories, and narratives woven into the fabric of my artistic identity. Picking up wools and yarns from every part of the world I visit and incorporating them into individual pieces. Using hand dying processes and creating and using hand spun yarns to further that narrative.
It’s an intricate dance between structure and flow, hard yet soft, rigid yet flexible—each piece a reflection of my own evolving understanding of form and texture. My journey as an artist is ongoing, and with each woven tapestry or installation, I continue to explore the boundless possibilities that lie within the interplay of art, nature, life and community.
This installation is a testament to my journey, to the struggle and the strength, and to my promise to keep growing, even when the pain feels insurmountable. It’s a tribute to my loved ones and a declaration that I am still here, still fighting, and still blooming.
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