In the winter of 2023, 25 years old, I sat down to paint what would become the first piece in my Self Portrait Project. I was living in Denver, Colorado, a place that had begun to feel like a cage. I knew in my bones that I needed to leave, but I wasn’t sure where I was heading or how I was going to get there. At that time, I lived alone in my apartment, dedicating myself entirely to my art. I was painting full-time, chasing that elusive feeling of knowing you’re on the right path, even when everything around you feels uncertain.
This self-portrait is a reflection of that moment—a snapshot of my inner world and my artistic journey as it stood. The brushstrokes in this painting are thick, almost sculptural, as if I was carving myself out of the paint. There’s an airy quality to the texture, a looseness that mirrored my own feelings of drifting in life. I thought it would be fun, and maybe a little ironic, to paint myself painting myself. It became a meta-commentary on how, at that time, I was trying to figure out who I was as an artist, while also trying to understand who I was as a person.
When I painted this, I was immersed in portraiture. Faces fascinated me—the way they could express so much with just a glance or a shadow. During that season, I was deep into working on a Kurt Cobain portrait, exploring the complexities of emotion in his expression, trying to capture the raw, tortured genius that he represented. I wanted my portraits to feel alive, to carry the weight of a person’s story in every stroke.
At the same time, I was experimenting with something completely different—what would become my "string paintings." This was a breakthrough period for me, creatively. The string paintings represented an entirely new way for me to engage with texture, form, and movement. Looking back, this era was one of bold experimentation. It was a time when I was finding my artistic voice, trying new techniques, and constantly pushing the boundaries of what I thought I could create.
But even amidst this creative surge, there was an underlying sense of fear. I didn’t feel at home in Colorado. I was landlocked, suffocated by the mountains that surrounded me, and I knew I needed to move—to somewhere that felt more like me. I was restless, itching to be near the ocean, where I’d always felt a pull. I hated Colorado. It felt like a place I had outgrown, but I wasn’t quite sure how to take the next step. I was scared of the unknown, yet equally afraid of staying stuck where I was. I knew I had to keep creating, keep moving forward—because the only way out of that fear was through my art.
During this time, I had just returned from a trip to New York City with my long-distance boyfriend. I was also preparing for my first major gallery show, which, despite my uncertainties, was a huge milestone for me as an artist. It felt like a validation of the countless hours I had spent alone in my apartment, pouring myself into my work. Yet even with that success on the horizon, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being lost.
A reflection within a reflection.
It’s funny in hindsight, but it felt symbolic at the time, as if I was trying to get to the core of who I was, layer by layer. Each year, as I continue this Self Portrait Project, I’ll look back at this first piece with new eyes—seeing not only who I was, but who I was becoming in that moment. There’s a rawness to this painting, a vulnerability that I couldn’t fully appreciate at the time, but which now feels like a pivotal point in my artistic journey.
Looking back, I see more than just the face staring back at me. I see the fear of not knowing what’s next. I see the excitement of creative breakthroughs and the desire to push through the limits of what I knew. I see a 25-year-old artist grappling with her place in the world but refusing to give up. It’s a moment captured in oil paint, thick and textural, where each brushstroke tells a story of where I was then—scared, hopeful, restless, and determined.
This is the start of the Self Portrait Project, an annual tradition where I’ll continue to document my journey, not just as an artist, but as a human being navigating the ups and downs of life.
Thank you for being part of this process with me. Whether you’ve been following my work for a while or are just discovering it, I invite you to come along for the ride.