Art and creativity run deep in my family and have influenced many aspects of my life. Before guiding, my passion was art. I was always drawing, even on my homework margins. When I was a child, I would attend my older sister’s dance performances and pass the time doodling on napkins in the dark. Growing up in a family of artists, including my grandmother, Dorthy, and my talented sister, art was a constant presence in my life.

In my late teens, a life event altered my connection to art and I wasn't satisfied with my projects. I turned to hiking and climbing in the Wasatch while working and attending college. I also worked as a paraeducator in a special education classroom for preschoolers. After funding cuts reduced my hours and benefits, I found summer work guiding rivers in Moab, Utah, with the adaptive company SPLORE.

I spent the next nine years traveling, pursuing outdoor projects and chasing rivers to add to my guiding resume until a boating accident forced a change in plans. Fast forward to the summer of 2023: I was unsatisfied without spending my summers on the water. A remote opportunity with Stio allowed me to return to guiding on the Tuolumne River. The summer was challenging—I slept in my CRV and worked my normal hours with Stio while guiding on weekends. Being back on the water was great, but it wasn’t the nostalgia I remembered. With a new rafting company, I had to learn new operations and manage guests who may not have been prepared for the tough conditions.

On my days off, I felt lonely in Buck Meadows and started exploring. I found small hikes around Yosemite that led to fun swimming holes framed by Ponderosa trees and dense ferns. Bringing poetry and books, I kept cool by swimming in side streams and avoiding the sun. This solitary time brought peace and I began meditating without adrenaline pursuits.

Eventually, I met an artist working for the forestry who lived at the bottom of Cherry Lake. His home, near a river with beautiful rapids and native plants, had a room dedicated to printing and painting. He inspired me and we shared our work. He showed me hidden waterfalls, and we brought our pens and papers, getting lost in the creative process amid the sharp Slate canyon walls.

I started experimenting with art again. Unsatisfied with fine line work and realism, I moved to stippling, a technique using dots to create light and shadow. It became addictive and satisfying.

I had it back! I rediscovered my passion and found it again in my adulthood. My first attempt was a Red Tail Hawk. I started slowly with the eyes, then the beak till eventually the feathers started making shape. I loved it and soon it was followed by a Turkey Vulture, then the flow of water, other animals, and eventually a portrait of my new friend. I thought I had left the art world behind at 18, but now, a year after finding it again, I'm still creating. My art has expanded to Cyanotype art of native plants, wood-burning rivers and plants, and creating moss frames and night-light mushrooms. I realized my connection to art was missing the influence of my outdoor experiences. The changes in my life had reshaped my values, leading me back to art through my appreciation for the natural world.

It's been quite the journey, and I learned a lot about myself last year. I healed in ways I didn’t know I needed and found peace with things I couldn’t control. I'm glad to have found my way back to expressing visions and appreciation, for both worlds that made me who I am today.