My Story

I’m an art teacher and art therapist, but really — I think the most important part is to be someone who holds space for little ones to slow down, create, and feel safe being themselves. My work lives at the intersection of art and emotional development, and it’s guided by a deep belief that children thrive when they’re seen, heard, and gently supported.

Over time, the art table has become more than just a place for crayons and paper— it’s a space where stories unfold, emotions take shape, and healing quietly happens in the background.

I’m originally from Birmingham, Alabama, with background in studio art and art history before my certifications in holistic art therapy and trauma informed care a few years ago. I worked in an ER a lifetime ago, and that’s how I ended up coming to Kenya as part of a general medical outreach team a few years ago — where I first fell in love with this place.

Philosophy & Mission

I believe in keeping things simple, thoughtful, and child-led. At the core of everything I do is a quiet respect for childhood—the big feelings, the wonder, the courage it takes to grow.

My approach blends creativity with care. It’s trauma-informed, rooted in social-emotional learning, and always attuned to the needs of the whole child. I hold space for expression over perfection, and I trust that when children are given the tools and the tenderness, they’ll show us exactly who they are. That’s the real magic.

Life in Kenya

Life in Kenya is slower in the best kind of way. I live and work on a sweet little campus nestled between rustling trees and red dusty roads, where every day is filled with small, beautiful moments: a quiet conversation with a child during art time, the sound of laughter echoing through the courtyard, and evenings that smell like rain and earth.

There’s something grounding about being here—about making art with children who have so much light in them, and letting that light guide our time

together.

Why I Do This

This little corner of the internet isn’t just about art projects or pretty pictures—it’s about presence. It’s about the magic, ordinary work of sitting with these incredible children as they draw, dream, and slowly begin to tell the truth of their inner worlds.

I do this work because I believe in the power of creativity to soothe, to anchor, and to reveal. I believe that when children are given the freedom to express themselves—without pressure or correction—something shifts. They stand a little taller. Their voices grow steadier. They begin to believe they matter.

And that belief? It stays with them.

Whether we’re rolling out paper in the sun or making space for big feelings through color and clay, what I hope kids feel most of all is this: You are safe here. You are important. Your story matters.

This work is quiet, and often unseen—but it’s holy to me. I don’t take for granted what it means to show up, again and again, with open hands and a listening heart.

Thank you for being here—for caring, for looking closer, for wanting to know. more.