I've always been inspired by the things I pass by every day. Growing up on the Southside of Chicago, I spent time walking through my neighborhood, seeing old brick buildings, the sun through the trees, the way the seasons changed my streets, and the people who made it feel like home. Those moments became the foundation for my work because they're connected to the people, places, and memories that have shaped who I am. Most of my paintings are portraits of friends or places that remind me of childhood. I'm interested in preserving moments that seem ordinary until they're gone. One of the first oil paintings I ever completed was a friend's vacation home. They had invited my family there for years, and I always thought it was the most beautiful house. As a surprise, I painted the home with their two dogs sitting on the porch and gave it to them. Less than a year later, the house had deteriorated so badly that it needed to be completely remodeled. It never felt the same afterward. That experience made me realize how quickly places can change, and how painting allows me to hold onto memories. Studying painting in Florence transformed the way I see the world. Spending hours painting outdoors taught me how to truly observe. Light constantly shifts, colors never stay the same, and moments are never exactly alike. Painting from life isn't just about recording what something looks like, it's about capturing what it feels like to be there in the moment. This world inspires me because it's honest. It isn't always extraordinary, but it's meaningful. When I paint, my goal is always the same: to encourage people to pause and take in the moments we often overlook, which are often the ones we miss the most.

Mental health and suicide prevention are important topics for me and other people my age, because a lot of us struggle with things that aren't always visible to others. I struggled for years in silence because it felt simpler to hurt than get help, which left me feeling so isolated. It can be easy to feel alone, even when people surround you, and even easier not to search out help when you feel this way. Talking about mental health helps people realize they aren't the only ones going through difficult times and encourages them to get help before things get worse. Mental health has influenced my beliefs and the way I look at life now. I struggled with suicidal thoughts in the past, and it took me a long time to reach out for help. I spent years thinking I was the only one who felt this way, and no one would understand what I was going through. Once I did reach out, I found that I wasn't as alone as I thought I was. The people in my life helped me through it and got me help. I have also had friends who attempted to hurt themselves or struggled with self-harm, and the most helpful thing I could do was be there for them and encourage them to seek professional help. Going through those experiences and seeing the people I care about go through them too, changed my perspective. Surviving my younger years taught me not to take life for granted. I try to appreciate the small things more now. When I'm walking down the street, I notice things I would have ignored before. I like to sketch little things I see, and I make an effort to spend time with my family and friends because I know how valuable those moments are. I see beauty in everything now, and I've reflected that in the art I create. I make portraits of my friends and family, and small cartoons and stories about the animals I see in the city. Life is so short, so I always embrace the love and beauty that's around me. I still have bad days, and I still struggle, but I know that there is life ahead of me, and it's what I make it to be. These experiences have made me more understanding of what other people may be going through and more aware of the importance of mental health and suicide prevention.

Art has always been a part of my life because of my aunt. Some of my earliest memories are of her stealing me away from my parents for the day so we could do some arts and crafts together. Whenever I was with her, she made sure there was a crayon, paintbrush, or marker in my hand, and a coloring book in front of me. I think my parents often saw the little crafts we did as a way to pass the time, but my aunt treated them as something more important. She encouraged me to experiment and express myself without worrying about whether something was perfect. My aunt was artistic herself, and she always loved art, music, and theater, but because of my family’s financial situation, she never had the opportunity to pursue her passions. Even though she could not follow the path she dreamed of, she never let that stop her from sharing her love of the arts with others. Instead of becoming bitter about the opportunities she missed, she dedicated herself to encouraging the young kids in our family. As I grew up, her influence on my life and my art never faded. She continued to be my biggest supporter, always reminding me of my capabilities and encouraging me to keep creating. When I was accepted to the School of the Art Institute, she was the very first person to tell me I had to go. I was worried about the financial commitment and whether pursuing art was the practical choice. She looked at me and said that the money didn't matter as much as spending my life doing something I loved. My aunt put me on this path because she taught me that art is more than just something we share love for, but that it's a way to connect with people and help them discover their own voices. Through her encouragement, I learned how powerful my art-making can be. She gave me the confidence to pursue an artistic education and believe that my work has value. Because of her, I now want to do for others what she did for me. My goal is not only to create art but also to teach and inspire others. I want to help young people explore their creativity, build confidence, and find joy in making something of their own. The patience, encouragement, and enthusiasm my aunt showed me are qualities I hope to pass on to future students. My favorite experience in the arts so far has been finding other people who love making work as much as I do. No one person has had the same experience at my school, yet we all share the same passion and love for the arts. I wish my aunt could've had that environment when she was growing up, and known that her options didn't have to be limited. I wish my aunt had someone to show her art the same way she did for me, and the same way I plan to do for others.

My “why” is the world around us. How we, as humans, connect with, shape, and are shaped by our environments. I am deeply motivated by studying the relationships between bodies, spaces, and nature, and how art can both reveal and influence these interactions. My passion lies in exploring how we can improve and transform the world through creative expression, using art as a tool to highlight the dynamic dialogue between people and the natural world. I want to make work that shows the fluid interaction between the human body and nature, capturing moments of tension, harmony, and transformation. This goal is a reflection of my belief that art is a powerful medium for empathy and understanding, allowing us to see ourselves as part of a larger ecosystem rather than isolated individuals. Through painting, sculpture, illustration, and design, I aim to create immersive experiences that invite viewers to reconsider their place in the world and inspire care for the environment and each other. With the rapid advancements in technology such as artificial intelligence, digital art, and automatic writing, artists have more tools than ever before. I see these developments as opportunities to expand the language of storytelling rather than replace the human spirit behind creation. I plan to integrate new technologies thoughtfully, using them to amplify emotional depth and interactivity in my work without losing the essential human perspective. For example, I envision developing a multimedia project, a combination of comic art, animation, and immersive installations, that explores stories of human connection to nature across cultures and histories. This project will blend traditional techniques with digital innovation to create layered narratives that engage audiences on multiple sensory levels. As a student of the arts, I am committed to balancing technological innovation with authentic storytelling, ensuring that the spirit of creation remains grounded in empathy, curiosity, and the desire to make a meaningful impact on the world.

In my practice as an interdisciplinary artist, collaboration is a foundational value. It means creating with and being alongside others. Whether I’m working on a painting, a spatial design, or a public installation, the process is always shaped by relationships, between people, materials, and environments. Collaboration is, and always has been, a dialogue built on trust, respect, and openness. It’s about listening deeply, being present, and honoring the perspectives and stories that others bring into the space. Growing up on the South Side of Chicago, I learned early that creative work thrives in community. My first collaboration was a mural for my high school, painted directly on bricks and stone with other young artists, classmates, and teachers. That project taught me how art could become a shared language. The mural was not just about the final image or how it looked, it was about the conversations we had while painting, thoughts and feelings we shared during breaks, and the brainstorming sessions that shaped the colors and imagery. The bench and wall we painted became more than a surface, it became a symbol of our connection to the school and to each other. I still go back and visit it sometimes, and recall the fun times I shared with my classmates at that spot, and continue to wonder about what other fun moments have been shared there since. As I’ve continued my education, collaboration has taken on new, and more experimental forms. Many of my most meaningful projects now integrate elements of music, performance, and space. One piece I’m especially proud of used music to create an immersive installation about love and movement across time and places. Working with a fabric and in collaboration with my professor, we translated sound and motion into a physical form that someone could step into, shaping the environment. That experience pushed me to think beyond medium and technique, and to focus on creating an emotional resonance that could only emerge through shared vision. I’m especially drawn to the emotional aspects of collaboration. In a society and world that often rewards individualism, collaborative work reminds me that creating together is an act of connection that is not always appreciated. It requires vulnerability, patience, and the willingness to be changed by the process. These connections are the same ones that help to guide of my work. Collaboration is where I feel most alive as an artist. It is in these shared spaces and ideas, whether a classroom, a gallery, or a city block, that I continue to find inspiration, challenge, and meaning.

My favorite piece is "Rooted Decay", a mixed-media sculpture that reflects the complex relationship between growth and death/impermanence. The piece consists of a plaster mold of my face, held up by a mold of my hand with broken fingers. The hollowed-out face serves as a planter, filled with soil, cacti, and mushrooms I grew myself. I’ve watercolored and added paper to texture the surface and portray a decaying/bruised skin texture, symbolizing the body's fragility. Rooted Decay explores the idea that decay is not something to be feared but an essential part of the cycle of life. The broken fingers and decaying skin reflect loss, but the plants inside the mold represent resilience and the potential for new life to grow from decay. The piece is a personal meditation on how I am constantly changing, evolving, and rooted in both the past and present. It’s a reminder that even in moments of decay, there’s room for new growth and transformation. This work embodies my desire to push boundaries and explore deep themes through my art. I strive to create pieces that reflect not only my journey but also universal experiences, how we connect to life, loss, and growth.

Growing up on the south side of Chicago, I've always been drawn to the city’s unique architecture. The mix of modern and historical buildings, and how light plays across them has always been entrancing to me. Each structure evokes emotions, a solid timeless building, like the Carbon and Carbide building, might represent stability while a changing environment, like the expanding neighborhoods, symbolizes impermanence and growth. I’m also deeply inspired by how people move through the city and interact with each other. I observe the small moments. Quiet exchanges and intimate interactions between me and the world around me reflect the complexity of human relationships. These moments hold little stories of their own, which I try to capture in my art. For me, the ordinary moments in daily life are often the most meaningful. A simple scene, like a person walking down a quiet street, or a pigeon taking a nap on the sidewalk can evoke a personal reflection. These everyday details connect to my own experiences, whether they’re about love, loss, or belonging. In capturing the beauty and emotion in everyday moments, I try to explore personal connections and the relationships that shape us.

I am a female artist born and raised on the south side of Chicago, IL, where public art is anything but lacking. Since the day I was born, I've been exposed to the murals that lit up and saturated the south side neighborhoods of Chicago and they sparked in me an infatuation with visual arts. I applied to many visual art schools with not a lot of hope in my heart, and a few months later I received an acceptance letter from my top choice School of the Art Institute of Chicago. Since then, I completed my freshman year exploring places in the city where I never thought I'd find art and creating things in ways I never thought of. During my first semester I created a piece titled "Connection to my Mind," made from melted soap and fabric I found in a recycling bin to showcase my love for music through art. The piece was an absolute hit during my critique and my professors pushed for me to try out sculpture. Exploring the idea of art in places you wouldn't look and creating with ordinary objects like soap or ripped fabric has been what's peaked my curiosity the most in college, and I've loved seeing the look on people's faces when I told them I made a sculpture out of soap, and even more, the look on their faces when I show them the sculpture. What I want to do after college is still fuzzy to me right now, and there's a lot of different things I would like to do. However, my non-negotiable for my future is passing on the idea of looking to create with everyday objects to the next generation of artists. I want to tap into the curiosity of the next generation and show them that art isn't just a painting or sketch on the page, but that art is all around us from the paper we write on to the bar of soap from the drugstore.

I am a female artist born and raised on the south side of Chicago, IL, where public art is anything but lacking. Since the day I was born, I've been exposed to the murals that lit up and saturated the south side neighborhoods of Chicago and they sparked in me an infatuation with visual arts. When I began drawing and painting, I was never encouraged that it would be something I could pursue in college until my junior year of high school when my art teacher encouraged me to enter my print "Help Yourself" into the School of the Art Institute's All City Visual Art Exhibition. To my surprise I got in, with a piece of art that was so beloved and personal in the way that it demonstrated my struggle with body image and mental health. After such a positive experience at this exhibition I became even more infatuated with the arts and began compiling a portfolio so that I could apply to art schools around the country. I applied to many with not a lot of hope in my heart, and a few months later I received an acceptance letter from my top choice School of the Art Institute of Chicago. Since then, I completed my freshman year exploring places in the city where I never thought I'd find art and creating things in ways I never thought of. During my first semester I created a piece titled "Connection to my Mind," made from melted soap and fabric I found in a recycling bin to showcase my love for music. Exploring the idea of art in places you wouldn't look and creating with ordinary objects like soap or ripped fabric has been what's peaked my curiosity the most in college, and I've loved seeing the look on people's faces when I told them I made a sculpture out of soap and even more the look on their faces when I show them the sculpture. What I want to do after college is still fuzzy to me right now, and there's a lot of different things I would like to do. The main thing I do have planned for my future is passing on the idea of looking to create with everyday objects to the next generation of artists. I want to tap into the curiosity of the next generation, and show them that art isn't just a painting, but that it's all around us from the paper we write on to the bar of soap from the drugstore.