I am an intuitive artist, creating mixed media abstracts led by colour, shapes, marks and lines as they are layered and responded to. My memories, the splash of raindrops on the water, the beauty of a setting sun on the golden fields of summer wheat, and the smell of a baby's head are layered and intermingled with all life's experiences, compressing, rearranging and creating an ever-evolving well of inspiration. I tend to use a lot of organic shapes. I am a nurturer by nature, using my hands to garden and grow, to create new patterns, shapes and colours.

I started painting later in life after a philosophical conversation with a friend. We were both over 50, discussing what we would regret not trying in life. I would love to do many things—hike the Grand Canyon, fly an airplane, see the pyramids—but all these were just the things on my "wow, that would be cool!" list. What I would genuinely regret, I knew immediately, but was too afraid to say, was that I wanted to paint. I had wanted to paint since I was young, but I didn't know how or where to start. So I channelled my creative spark into other avenues—designing a line of children's clothing, designing and building my family's home, and working in the garden. Still, something drew me back to painting, the need to be just me with a blank canvas and my brush. And so I started.

I love to garden, to get my hands in the soil, pickling and canning tomatoes and herbs that I grow, or picking flowers to brighten my home and, best of all, gifts for others. Every summer, I promise myself to wear gloves, but invariably my hands are deep in the dirt, fingernails be damned. I love that connection between playing in the soil and shaping a beautiful space. In my studio, my dirty nails become paint-smeared hands as I connect with the canvas, having too much fun to stop and pick up my brush.

Painting and creating are my ways of interacting and sharing with the world. Colour, line, movement and shapes are in constant dialogue, and I am adding and subtracting until everything has been said and the canvas is quiet. I speak with my hands; I paint to say what I can't put into words.