36"x48" Acrylic, mixed media on canvas

This painting was born from the fire of emotion — from rage, heartbreak, passion, and everything in between. It sat untouched for months, carrying the residue of feelings too big to face. Then, last week, I picked it up again — not to make something beautiful, but to feel through the paint.
I scraped, threw, pushed, and pulled until the canvas itself seemed to breathe with me. Every gesture became a release — anger dissolving into movement, pain transforming into color, raw energy turning into life force.
What remains is the echo of transformation itself — emotion turned to freedom, form forged through feeling.
Dancing By the Light of the Moon is a record of emotional alchemy — the wild feminine intelligence of the body creating its own light in the dark.

Acrylic, ink. 23" x 33"
As I worked on this piece, it felt like I was moving down underneath the old stories: the roles I took on in my family, the Wounded Healer pattern that’s been with me since childhood, the need to fix, understand, or prove myself.
The painting feels like being underwater, in the quiet caves of the heart — a place before identity forms. A place where feeling leads, without needing to explain or translate anything.
This isn’t about healing others or even “fixing” myself.
It’s about meeting myself underneath all of that, and letting the unnecessary layers fall away.
That’s what this painting is for me:
a descent into the deeper truth beneath the roles I’ve outgrown.

This piece also mirrors the work I do with clients — going underneath the identities we’ve carried for a lifetime and listening for what’s true beneath them.
It’s the same territory the Soul Imprint Process™ opens: the quiet, honest space below the surface where real change begins.

“The Raven’s Cave”
12”x16” acrylic on canvas. Print only

In the Raven’s cave, light pools like milk in the curved cup of dreaming.
Bodies float in the first water, the before-birth blue where souls recognize each other without names.
The moon watches through skin, through the transparent wall between sleeping and waking, between the story we tell and the story that dreams us.
Here, in the deep chamber where light codes swim like fish, where numbers spiral into meaning we almost remember—
The original gathering. The first circle. Where we chose each other before forgetting was necessary for the surprise of finding again.
In this space between spaces, the imprint holds: how we were together before we learned the weight of separate bodies, the ache of individual names.
The mother carries us all, dark navigator through the ocean of becoming. Her belly the first womb, the last refuge, the place where all souls float in the same luminous water.

"Where We Land" Acrylic and mixed media on canvas 10"x14"

My series “Bodies in Prayer” is from countless sketches of bodies in motion. These paintings emerged from a deep immersion in my dance community where connection flows like water between souls. These are not portraits but captured gestures—the fleeting moments when individual dancers dissolve into something collective and sacred.

Born from the gestures of a dance community that practices the art of letting go, what emerges is the playful spirit of surrender in motion. Bodies learn to trust through laughter and touch, discovering that the deepest spiritual practices can be joyous rather than solemn.
In this space, falling isn't failure—it's practice. Whether landing in waiting arms or meeting the forgiving floor, each moment teaches about trust, about letting go, about the courage it takes to surrender again and again.
Movement becomes meditation, not through stillness but through the spinning chaos of bodies learning to let go together. Each gesture speaks of practiced vulnerability, each embrace a lesson in trust, each unexpected fall a reminder that surrender itself is the safety net.

In our circle of trust,
we are practicing dying every day,
sometimes with grace and laughter,
sometimes with trembling courage.
Together we lay down our armor,
learn to fall with joy—
sometimes into waiting arms,
sometimes onto the patient floor.
Both teach us something sacred.
With friends, with beloved dancers,
we practice letting go—
every day on the floor together,
every day learning that trust
isn't about being caught,
but about the courage to fall.
Where we land is just a moment,
a breath, a pause—
then the dance begins again,
another fall waiting,
another chance to let go.
In mindful movement,
in presence that holds us,
we feel the tension trapped
in our bones, in our muscles—
everything just wants to release.
Each landing teaches us
to rise and fall again,
letting go and letting go
into the arms of community,
into the dance of trust,
this daily practice of dying
into love—
where we land becomes
where we leap from,
over and over,
held in the endless cycle
of falling into grace.

"The Language Between"
Acrylic and mixed media on canvas
10"x14"

My series “Bodies in Prayer” is from countless sketches of bodies in motion. These paintings emerged from a deep immersion in my dance community where connection flows like water between souls. These are not portraits but captured gestures—the fleeting moments when individual dancers dissolve into something collective and sacred.

In the sacred space where bodies become instruments of understanding, where a profound language exists beyond words. The bodies move like colors bleeding into one another on wet canvas—boundaries soft, identities fluid, yet each essence distinct and honored.
Arms curve around shoulders, backs arch in trust, hands find their way to hearts. This is the dance of deep intimacy, where vulnerability becomes strength and connection transcends the need for explanation. In this tender huddle, they communicate what language cannot hold—the longing for belonging, the joy of being truly seen and accepted anyway.
They are creating something together that none could achieve alone: a living mandala of human intimacy.
This is where the dance becomes most profound—not in grand gestures, but in these quiet moments of complete presence, where beings allow themselves to be known and to know others at the deepest level.

11"x15" Original Acrylic, mixed media on canvas

My series “Bodies in Prayer” is from countless sketches of bodies in motion. These paintings emerged from a deep immersion in my dance community where connection flows like water between souls. These are not portraits but captured gestures—the fleeting moments when individual dancers dissolve into something collective and sacred.

This painting is inspired by my sacred contact improvisation dance community….
In the sanctuary of gathered souls, there exists a language older than words. It speaks through the curve of a spine, the weight of trust shared between strangers who have become family, the sacred geometry of bodies choosing tenderness over protection.
Three figures stand in quiet devotion, their forms creating a shelter of presence around their companions below. They have learned the ancient art of holding space—not with their hands, but with their hearts. Their bodies form a living prayer, an offering of witness and care that asks nothing in return.
At the center, two souls have found their way to stillness. In a world that demands constant motion, they have discovered the radical act of rest within community. Their embrace is not possession but sanctuary, not escape but arrival. They sit as if the earth itself has cradled them, knowing they are held by something larger than themselves.
Around them, the cosmos responds. Sacred symbols drift like blessings through the air—ancient codes that have always been there, waiting for hearts open enough to receive them. These are the hieroglyphs of connection, the universal language that appears when human beings remember how to truly see each other.
This is the prayer that bodies offer when they move beyond the need to perform, to prove, to protect. It is the prayer of presence, of showing up fully for one another. It is the prayer that says: in a world of separation, we choose connection. In a time of hardness, we choose softness. In a space of fear, we choose love.
The dance continues, not in movement but in the deeper rhythm of hearts beating in recognition of one another. They have discovered that the most profound prayer is not spoken but lived—written in the tender space between one soul and another, illuminated by the sacred codes that bind all beings together in the vast, loving darkness of existence.
This is how community becomes communion. This is how humans remember they are divine.

Purchase options: $400.00; Print on canvas 12”x18” $150.00