I Am Not a Painter—Why My Work is a Transformational Experience
I do not paint because I want to. I paint because I must. It is as natural, as necessary, as inevitable as breath. As growing my hair. As the daily rhythm of being alive. To create is not an act of choice for me—it is an act of existence itself.
Each day, I stand before the canvas not to make something beautiful for the world, not to please an audience, not even to be understood. I create because I am in constant evolution, and my work is the residue of that transformation. If I do not shift, grow, change, I cannot go another day. The work is a testament to my own metamorphosis, and in that, it becomes a mirror for you, the viewer. A quiet permission to transform, to become more fully yourself, just as I become more fully myself with each brushstroke.
My art is not a decoration; it is a declaration. A record of my unfolding, a shedding of what no longer serves, a welcoming of what is next. It is the skin of my soul made visible—not discarded, but honored. Not lost, but evolved. And when you stand before it, when you live with it, my hope is that you feel this same permission in yourself: to let go, to expand, to embody your most expressive, authentic life.
I do not make work for others. I make it because I must. And yet, when my work finds a home, when a collector feels that resonance—that knowing—it is a quiet miracle. Not because my art has been chosen, but because it has spoken. Because it has whispered a truth that someone else was ready to hear.
More than anything, I want those who collect my work to experience its transformation not just in their space, but in their being. That each time they see it, they are reminded that they, too, are constantly unfolding. That they are allowed to change, to shift, to become. And that this becoming is not only an act of self-expression—it is a gift to the world.
To those who see themselves in my work, to those who collect, to those who allow art to shape them as they shape their lives: thank you. You are not just collecting paintings; you are collecting the echoes of transformation. Yours. Mine. Ours.
XOXORo
