Since 2017, I’ve had the privilege of working closely with two remarkable individuals with profound autism. What began as a part-time college job quickly became a life-changing experience. That role taught me the quiet power of presence and the deep fulfillment that comes from helping others live with dignity, joy, and support.

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Later, my work in human resources gave me a broader lens through which to understand people and systems. I believed that if you worked hard, stayed kind, and genuinely cared, it would always be enough.

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But in early 2024, life shifted in ways I couldn’t have predicted. A wave of personal and professional changes forced me to reexamine my identity, my health, and the future I thought I was building.

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In the stillness that followed, I began reflecting on the years behind me. In 2020, my mother-in-law passed away after living with us. Then, in early 2024, we lost my father-in-law as well. Between those two losses, I was diagnosed with a neurological condition that reshaped how I experience daily life. Each event carried its own grief, but together they created an unexpected pause. I wasn’t just mourning the people I had lost; I was grieving the version of life I had imagined.

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That ache made space for deeper questions:

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• Who am I beyond a title or a schedule?

• What brings me real joy and energy?

• What can I create that feels honest and healing?

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During this time of reflection, a memory from early childhood resurfaced. At a family wedding, around the age of two, I fell into a pond. I don’t remember the fall, only the feeling of being wrapped in a blanket, safe in my father’s arms. I was told a stranger had pulled me out. In my heart, I’ve always imagined it was an angel who nudged her, whispering, “not yet.”

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That moment sparked something. I picked up a pencil for the first time in a while and tried to draw what I saw in my mind. I began with a faceless angel, then drew a single eye.

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That one moment changed everything.

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I became captivated by what eyes hold from memory to emotion to unspoken truths. They aren’t just windows to the soul. They are portals into questions we are only beginning to understand.

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Art became a lifeline. A mirror. A way to explore everything I once tried to explain with logic alone. I’m drawn to symbolic, surreal pieces that ask big, human questions:

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What shapes our beliefs, our truth, our identities?

How do we make peace with what’s gone and still grow forward?

What is real in a world full of perception and contradiction?

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My work reflects these questions with gentleness, curiosity, and deep respect for each person’s unfolding story.

Today, I am building a life that feels more aligned with art, creativity, compassion, and reflection at its center. My hope is to offer others what I’ve learned to offer myself: the courage to evolve, the space to reflect, and the tools to begin again.