About Me
I’m a writer, artist, and builder of thoughtful systems. Much of my creative work is shaped by curiosity about how people find their way through change, how the environments around us shape who we become, and what happens when we begin choosing our own direction.
Before turning more seriously toward writing and art, I spent more than a decade working in complex, fast-paced environments. Those experiences gave me a close view of ambition, innovation, pressure, belonging, and the complicated ways systems can bring out both the best and the hardest parts of being human.
Wind and Wing: Tales of the Raven grew from those experiences, but also from a much broader collection of people, places, relationships, and moments gathered over time. Through allegory and myth, I explore questions of identity, resilience, power, belonging, and the courage it sometimes takes to reconsider the story you thought you were supposed to follow.
Today, I divide my creative work between writing and visual art, particularly block printing and mosaic. I’m drawn to nature, texture, movement, and the process of transforming something complicated into something tangible.
I tend to live somewhere at the intersection of systems and stories, introspection and action, structure and experimentation. Whether I’m writing a story, carving a block, or piecing together a mosaic, I’m interested in the same basic question: What can we discover when we look at something familiar from a different angle?
My Connection with the Stories in Wind and Wing
Wind and Wing was born from the inside.
For more than a decade, I worked within large organizations and complex systems, including environments that prized speed, ambition, and constant growth. I saw remarkable ingenuity and met extraordinary people. I also came to understand how easily ambition can become entangled with identity, and how difficult it can be to hear your own voice when you have spent years learning how to succeed within a system.
After a period of corporate burnout and significant change, I began writing as a way to make sense of what I had experienced. Many of the stories in Wind and Wing started as private metaphors. Animals, landscapes, maps, cages, storms, and flight gave me a language for experiences that were much harder to describe directly.
The stories are not memoir or exposé. They are allegorical myths, shaped by my experiences but transformed through imagination. The Raven is not me, but she carries pieces of me: the person who tried to master the system, the person who questioned it, the person who cared deeply for others, and eventually, the person who had to decide what she wanted to carry forward and what she was ready to leave behind.
I didn’t expect those stories to become a map, but in many ways, they did. They trace a path through ambition, belonging, loss, resilience, identity, and the sometimes messy process of finding your way back to yourself.
That journey also became part of why I returned so deeply to making art. Writing, carving, printing, and mosaic all ask me to slow down, work with my hands, experiment, and pay attention. The studio has become a place where the same ideas explored in the book can take on entirely different forms.