Individuals with developmental disabilities are not historically featured subjects in paintings and other forms of fine art. I am interested in exploring ways to represent marginalized groups, specifically members of the Down syndrome community, through painting. Through collaboration with leaders in the international Down syndrome community, I plan to shine light upon those who are ready to be celebrated for their valuable contributions to their families, neighborhoods, and our world at large. I have learned that my work as a painter can be a powerful tool for helping people grieve and heal. Many of the paintings I am asked to create are memorials to those who have been lost. I have painted a portrait of my father’s best friend who passed away suddenly at age 45 and learned that it brought calm to his family and to my own father. I have painted the portrait of a young mother who did not survive her battle with Cancer and left two children behind. The night before my grandfather’s funeral, I painted his portrait in order to honor his spirit and bring comfort to my family. I have painted many portraits of beloved pets in order to memorialize their lives and their importance to their families. I witnessed a grieving brother weep in front of a portrait I painted and understood deeply that my work was so much more than a picture to him, but a tool to help him process his grief. Joy can be a happy emotion, but it can also be felt when we know comfort has been received during a time of loss and pain. I have learned that these quiet moments with art can bring solace to a family, but also to a larger community and I see my role as a public servant to be one of caring for the hearts and stories of others. People with developmental disabilities are historically left out of the art world. Lack of representation prevents people from being honored and equalized. The old master painters portrayed aristocracy and royalty. They documented wealth, power, and social status through a white male lens up until the late 19th century. This limited who was painted, the subject matter, and how people were to be remembered. Rarely if ever were individuals with noticeable disabilities portrayed in a positive light. Similar to modern painter Kehinde Wiley’s portrayal of the black queer community in ways white historical figures were depicted, I plan to focus on the underrepresented community of individuals with disabilities. Wiley surrounds his subjects with stunning colors and patterns while highlighting the beauty and regal posture of his subjects. This portrayal of an underrepresented community has inspired my desire to use the art of painting to uplift similarly unseen people. My artwork focuses on the retelling of the stories I witness and I have used my work to lift people up and create representation in a new way. The personalities of the people with whom I've worked with for so long would inform my composition and direct my process. Finding leaders in the international Down syndrome community would also be an important step in my voyage in order to collaborate with organizations already committed to respecting the abilities and values of those born with differences.

Individuals with developmental disabilities are not historically featured subjects in paintings and other forms of fine art. I am interested in exploring ways to represent marginalized groups, specifically members of the Down syndrome community, through painting. Through collaboration with leaders in the international Down syndrome community, I plan to shine light upon those who are ready to be celebrated for their valuable contributions to their families, neighborhoods, and our world at large. The concept of a series of paintings would begin in my hometown of Cleveland, Ohio. Gigi’s Playhouse is a national organization that is an achievement and resource center for children, teens, and adults with Down syndrome. I have spent the last five years helping to organize and run events for GiGi’s. My vision is to paint a vibrant series of portraits of members of the Gigi’s Playhouse community whom I have grown to know so well, to tell their stories. The paintings would be donated to the Playhouse. This extends beyond Cleveland. The voyage stipend would allow me to pursue my aim to meet with leaders in the Down syndrome community across the county. I hope to collaborate to find ways in which my work could support and enhance the work they do in their cities. Exposure to new communities and organizations outside of my experience will be vital to my practice and increase the impact my art can have.People with developmental disabilities are historically left out of the art world. Lack of representation prevents people from being honored and equalized. The old master painters portrayed aristocracy and royalty. They documented wealth, power, and social status through a white male lens up until the late 19th century. This limited who was painted, the subject matter, and how people were to be remembered. Rarely if ever were individuals with noticeable disabilities portrayed in a positive light. Similar to modern painter Kehinde Wiley’s portrayal of the black queer community in ways white historical figures were depicted, I plan to focus on the underrepresented community of individuals with disabilities. Wiley surrounds his subjects with stunning colors and patterns while highlighting the beauty and regal posture of his subjects. This portrayal of an underrepresented community has inspired my desire to use the art of painting to uplift similarly unseen people. My artwork focuses on the retelling of the stories I witness and I have used my work to lift people up and create representation in a new way. The personalities of the people with whom I've worked with for so long would inform my composition and direct my process. Finding leaders in the international Down syndrome community would also be an important step in my voyage in order to collaborate with organizations already committed to respecting the abilities and values of those born with differences.

I am an artist from Cleveland, Ohio, majoring in painting at the Rhode Island School of Design. I have been painting all my life and it has helped me to observe the world around me in a special way. I notice light, color, motion, texture, and fleeting interactions between strangers who share a common space for just a moment in time. During my time at RISD I have been surrounded by remarkably talented artists from around the world, heightening the expectations I have for myself and inspiring me every single day to be the best artist I can be. I have come to appreciate the unique opportunity I have to attend this school and be constantly surrounded by so many different life experiences and journeys. I look forward to seeing where my own journey takes me. As an artist, I aim to capture movement, emotion, and life stories. My work focuses on small interactions between strangers and the retelling of the stories I witness. I am interested in the theme of sonder and I strive to remind myself and others that the people with whom we cross paths each day are living lives just as vivid and complex as our own. Each person’s individual story has value, beauty, and depth. I am fascinated by the simple, yet magical moments when those paths cross. Some of the paintings that mean the most to me is the painting I did for GiGi's Playhouse, a down syndrome achievement center that is local to my town. I spent all of my high school years on the youth board and volunteering there. This painting was done for the GiGi's Playhouse event "Brew Ha Ha". I painted in front of a large crowd, then at the end of the night, the painting was auctioned off. GiGi's is a non-profit down syndrome achievement center. There are playhouses all over the country, including my hometown. I have been involved with GiGi's for four years so being able to paint at the biggest event of the year was very special to me. This is a painting of the West Side Market in downtown Cleveland. This marketplace is a staple landmark for anyone traveling to Cleveland. Because I was painting in front of a crowd, I completed some of the painting before the event so I would be able to finish in time. Painting live was a crazy and scary and exciting experience.

Sonder, a new word in the English lexicon: “The realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own--filled with their own ambitions, friends, family, routines, goals, and aspirations” * In April of 2021, I got my second Pfizer vaccine. The only place that had shots available was a CVS in downtown Lakewood. The shot was quick, the nurse had given hundreds that day. My mom and I rushed out of the unusually busy CVS giggling as we left because of our circumstances. I was already late to softball practice, and I would need that arm. I vividly remember five people waiting in line. Our laughter must have caught the attention of one of the women in line because she turned around. She held a twelve-pack of Coke and the hand of her child. A young woman was in front of her using the self-checkout, she had a big bag of Halloween candy. Two men were also in line, one holding a gallon of milk, the other with a full grocery basket. My first thought was regarding the strange combination of products each one of these people held. Why grocery shop at CVS? Why stop at a busy intersection for a gallon of milk? Halloween candy in April? One thought led to another, and finally, after sixteen years of believing I was aware of my surroundings, I suddenly understood that I wasn’t...and that I was not alone on this planet. Those people were living their lives independent of mine. This little moment in my life, this single glance–has changed me forever. I am an artist. I have made it my goal to share this truth through my artwork to remind myself that my story is not the only one. I speak through paint, I listen through portraiture, and I am tying together life stories. My first year of college went by in the blink of an eye. I spent every day surrounded by some of the most talented artists from around the world, heightening my expectations for myself and for others. Pushing me every single day to be better. After a month of reflection, I have come to appreciate how incredible of an opportunity it is to attend this school and constantly be surrounded by so many stories, life experiences and journeys. I look forward to seeing where my journey continues in the fall.

Grandma Wilhelmy passed a month before I was born, she was an artist. Mama Donovan knit the baby blanket I was wrapped in as a little girl, she is an artist. My Papa made the flower arrangement that sat in the delivery room, he was an artist. My parents critique and create, they are artists. My whole life I’ve been surrounded by art, my home, my workplace, my family. At a young age, I was put into my very first art class. Daugstrup Fine Art. I learned how to hold a brush and paint a frog. Little did I know, an 8x10 canvas from 2011 would be the start of a long journey. To get to the white room you had to walk up a flight of metal stairs. I remember the exciting feeling those stairs brought and the classical music that escorted me up them. I remember the short white crowded tables. I remember finding out the studio was being moved. I would still be painting with the same teacher, the same people, but in a new environment. Now I was in a bigger white room with floor-to-ceiling windows. I remember the critiques at the end of a two-hour class. I didn’t understand their value at the time, but they have turned out to be the most influential aspect of my artistic career. Accepting and applying constructive criticism has always been one of my most valuable characteristics. I remember my first smell of oil paint and my curiosity surrounding it. I remember being invited to paint with the adults. This was monumental for me. The adults talked in a sophisticated way, about sophisticated things. They worked on commissions and paintings for shows. They showed me new styles and techniques. They were my idols. I remember learning about the studio shutting down. Grieving the death of a workplace I had grown up in. I was then forced to create my own workspace--I was not done yet. The back left corner of my basement is my space. A space all to myself, allowing endless possibilities. Unless those possibilities are larger than an 18x24 canvas, then they end there. Although the change from a space dedicated to creativity to my own home was hard, I made it work. I developed routines and schedules. I found independence. My ability to adapt and find a home in a new environment is also a valuable characteristic of mine. The one thing I did lose were the two eyes looking over my shoulder. She is not gone, but a phone call is never the same as time spent together. My mother has become that figure. We like taking photos of interesting people. Sometimes it requires pulling over and walking into a barbershop, or getting in line for a food truck whilst having no intention of buying food, or stopping a family eating breakfast because they were beautiful. The rush and excitement it creates are exhilarating. Sometimes my reference photos are already paintings. Sometimes they are photos that need to be painted. I am an artist. It is my job to create.