I grew up on a small hippie farm in central Texas, where I spent most days outside—skipping from sunbeam to sunbeam, collecting eggs, and dissecting pomegranates, seed by seed. Life was slow, simple, and pure. I hold those memories close because they remind me of how it felt to truly connect with myself and nature, exploring the world with endless curiosity and a sense of wonder. Those sweet moments from my childhood became the foundation of a longing I carried into adulthood—a longing for more beauty, more space, and deeper connections with others and the world around me. But in my search, all I found was more anxiety, more depression, more isolation, and a deeper feeling of being stuck.

My intuition eventually nudged me to stop chasing after things I believed would bring me happiness. Instead, it urged me to slow down, embrace the small moments of curiosity, and focus on simply existing in the creative process, even if it was something only for myself. Gradually, I started to listen. I took small steps toward developing a practice I call intuitive artmaking—a way to attune to myself through creativity.

I found that when I slowed down and asked myself the simple question, "What's next?" in a million micro-moments, I became awake to the present so much that I could tap into something deeper within me—and beyond me. Artists and musicians often describe this state as "being in the flow”, and while flow is an apt term, it can feel vague and difficult to explain. Flow, however, is simply being in a state of unfettered curiosity, a state with which most humans have experience.