About

A collection of paintings about Motherhood… what was I thinking? I could have painted sweet baby animals with their mothers. But motherhood has been far more complicated than that. The transition has been more joyful – and more difficult – than I ever expected. In sharing my personal experience, I hope to spark conversation about parenthood, identity, and how we move through major life transitions with the help of others. 

Motherhood is so ubiquitous that I assumed it might be… easier. When I was pregnant, women told me it was the best and the hardest thing,” that “they grow up so fast,” and that “the days are long but the years are short.” Cliches lose their power through repetition – until you live them. Now, my heart aches with their truth. 

I created this collection just before my daughter turned three. After her birth, I struggled in ways I didn’t anticipate or fully understand. At first, it seemed insomnia, then perhaps hormonal imbalance. I was given multiple postpartum mental health diagnoses. I desperately wanted to paint, but couldn’t. The fatigue was otherworldly. Many days felt heavy beyond explanation, as if gravity had multiplied and I were moving underwater. Looking back now, I’m struck by how convincing that darkness was.

I made it through with help – a great deal from my parents, my husband and his mother, my counselor, and my friends; but also from the knowing looks of camaraderie from other mothers and the kindness of strangers who lent so many helping hands. I feel rusty, but deeply grateful to be painting again. Creating this body of work helped me remember what fun feels like: experimenting, being curious, trying new things, and delighting in the process. 

When I was a little girl, my great-aunt Ann, also a painter, once said to me while we were sketching a candle, “To show the light, draw the darkness.” That advice has stayed with me.

Thank you for viewing this collection. It is the most personal work I’ve made. Each piece holds layers of different energies – from playful mark-making with my daughter, to dark abstraction, to the lightness of flow-state creation. At one point, my daughter dragged a giant red paint-loaded brush across the center of a painting I thought was finished. I was horrified. Then angry. Then sad. Then we both burst into giggles. She was right – it needed more work. And I needed to remember how to play.

Please reach out and tell me which pieces of the Motherhood - Play Collection speak to you. All works are for sale, and I would love for them to find homes among friends! 

With gratitude,