I feel like it's only natural that it would spill over into other aspects of my life. My partner, Buckley, and I rent our house so there is only so much we can do when it comes to designing or building out our house--thankfully we have great landlords who do have a background in design. As far as furniture goes, for us, there isn’t a formula or a grand scheme to the design, which is similar to how I would approach a painting. I might have a general idea on how I want my painting or my house to feel--but both are formed over time through arranging and rearranging in order to find a semblance of balance or flow. Buckley is also a creative and has a studio in our house for recording and playing music. We also both love the challenge of making utilitarian things within our home even though it is certainly not our expertise--instead of shopping for new furniture, we’ve made tables, record cabinets, cutting boards, book shelves, etc. to fit our own specifications. All in all, I’d say our home is an extension of my art practice in that when I leave my studio, there is not a clocking out of wanting to create. If anything, our house is just another hub for us to continue creating within.

I can certainly recognize color palettes I'm working through in paintings throughout my home and vice versa. Any of my close friends can tell you that my house is almost always rearranged in a new configuration each time they come over. I’m sure that's unusual to most people but I think it’s because I am constantly obsessing over color palettes or compositions. If I’m not able to reach for a paint brush because I’m home, I can reach for the nearest piece of furniture and rearrange until that composition or color grouping is realized.

I think that the best art can be found in nature; the happenstance of it all is endlessly inspiring to me. Camping, swimming in the springs, going for walks all create an atmosphere where I am able to slow down and become more aware of the colors, shapes, textures, and compositions around me. My creative process is often going through periods of painting pretty non-stop, and on the flip side needing to have moments to not paint at all but instead pause, reassess, and re-energize. When I am able to slow down, spend time outside, and be present, it often leads to future paintings or new creative endeavors.

Gosh. I have a million little things that I've collected over the years that hold some special meaning to me. It's silly, but recently, I found a note my grandma had written about a cake she wanted me to pick up for my mom's birthday. Between her familiar cursive scribble and just how obvious it is that she still sees my mom as her little girl, I just found it so endearing that I had to save it. I'm even planning on getting it framed--this little note feels like a work of art to me.

I also have a bowl full of polaroid photos that should our house ever catch fire (knock on wood), It would be one of the first things I would grab before running out the door. I was really little when my parents gave me a polaroid camera and I took photos with it constantly! Because of this, I have photos of my siblings growing up, my grandpa taking a nap on the couch, my childhood best friend Robyn. I can rifle through these photos and still feel enamored that I am looking at the world I grew up in and the people who filled my days and feel so glad that “little me” decided I needed to capture it.

All of my treasured objects are by no means collectors items or hold any real monetary value--I’m pretty sentimental and maybe even corny in that way.

My interior design sensibility is informed by keeping the life that I want to live in mind. Buckley and I have a collection of records and a decent HiFi system--music is a crucial element in our house, so our living room is deliberately centered around a record player. Some of our favorite moments and conversations have been around a table with the people we love, drinking wine or coffee, and sharing food--so we spent weeks building an outdoor dining table with benches long enough to hold all the people we love. I am no interior designer, but I do think if you were to walk into my house you would get a palpable sense of who I am and the life that Buckley and I have together.

I think It's important for me to note that I grew up in a family that really encouraged my siblings and I to be ourselves. Self-expression and individuality was always welcomed and encouraged. As I get older I've realized that this isn’t as common as you would think--I was incredibly lucky. I’ve never been afraid to try a new medium or make a “bad” painting, which is what I think stops people from ever creating in the first place.

When it comes to cultivating creativity, ideas, and my process, it's difficult for me to distill it all into a succinct paragraph. I’ll try to keep it brief and just say that I really do believe that everyone has a rich and unique inner world. Too often we're taught to tone it down at a young age (“color within the lines ONLY!”), which I think is incredibly damaging and sad. Cultivating creativity and ideas is attempting to have a childlike wonder for the world around you, despite it all. My process is about giving myself the space to unabashedly create and the time to step back and reflect.

Finally, completing work is understanding that 95% of the time, the painting will feel like it's missing something, or like you're a little lost in the weeds. It's not until the very last strokes that it feels like you’ve been working towards something. Because of this, painting can be a supremely frustrating process but one that, on the other side of the frustration, feels incredibly rewarding--it's just a matter working through it and trusting the process.