The year 2020 allowed me to reflect upon what was most important to me. My husband had just left the military and we had the deep privilege of spending a few months at home together, enjoying each other's company and finding a new routine. I tried to capture this peace and solitude in my painting honoring our first home, the second year of our marriage and our first dog. I realize that not everyone was as lucky. I appreciate what we have and have not taken it for granted. The scale in the painting represents finding balance and gratitude during this time of national crisis. The eggs in the still life were laid by our chickens, fulfilling our desire to move towards a simpler life of self-sufficiency. I cherish this time in our lives despite the external hardships, and I am focused on making a positive impact on those around me, sharing what I have learned: that when life gets slower we have an opportunity to appreciate what's right in front of us.

I have often used myself as a model because I am the most readily available—and I am free. In the past, female artists faced many restrictions, often being excluded from life drawing classes, which led them to use mirrors to paint from instead. Self-portraits have a long history in the world of art, whether out of necessity or curiosity. Often simply the muse in the past, female artists of the 21st century have the great privilege to take back what beauty means to us and choose how we want to be depicted to the viewer.

I painted this self portrait inspired by images of classical traditions. A strong, proud figure, usually a male. Instead of something more feminine I chose to put myself in a shirt from my husband’s Renaissance costume. I loved the sleeve and the way the fabric draped. I wanted to show a modern female artist posed in this manner. This painting represents a side of me, one that has joined the long standing tradition of realist artists and ateliers. It is hard to capture oneself as whole in a single image. An image captures one version of yourself at one moment in time but as humans we grow and evolve constantly. Despite its limitations the self portrait is a wonderful ode to time and human expression.

Before painting this portrait, I had just completed a large self portrait posing myself in a masculine shirt and in a proud, traditional stance. I was inspired by images of classical traditions and wanted to create my own. One of my instructors encouraged me to think more deeply about why I was painting it. Does this represent me or does it represent a long standing line of tradition that I am a part of? In response to this, I sat down in front of the mirror and painted myself exactly as I was, in my studio at the atelier, with that portrait in the background. This may not represent all of me but it seems a bit closer to who I am as a whole than that traditional portrait. I wanted the piece to feel casual and conversational as if you had just walked into my studio.

I painted this while we were looking for our new home. We moved back East to be closer to our families. While we looked for a new place to settle down, we shared an office/studio while staying with family. It was a big move across the country, we had no idea where or what we wanted in our new home and our lovely old cat Henry passed during this time. I wanted to capture this important period in our lives because as excited and anxious as were to get started with our next chapter there’s something really important about those moments in between I’m learning to cherish.

My first piece in our new home, our renovation already underway - I took to oil paint for a reprieve from house paint. Some rooms in our home lie empty until we need them. While painting this piece - I was standing in the room of a child who does not yet exist. This amplifies the sense of anticipation that comes with the concept of a "new beginning” and how the home, and our lives, will continually change.

Interior view of my studio painted from the kitchen. The light is framed by the dark knotty-pine walls. A cabinet door sits ajar, a chair turned as if someone just left. Another door in the distance invites you in while sunlight glows through the sheer curtains in a pleasant warmth.

I wanted this piece to feel like a universal moment many could resonate with. An embrace they might find themselves in at one point in their personal journeys. For me, the idea was born out of our fertility journey. A liminal moment in time. As I finished this piece I was halfway through my pregnancy. There’s certainly something healing about expressing your emotions through art.

The nursery renovation was complete at last and was (and still is) the only fully completed room in the house. An empty crib and mother expectantly await their coming child. Light fills the once dark and dusty room from the window that holds the view of someone yet born - a dogwood tree slowly beginning to blossom in anticipation of Spring.

Heavily pregnant by this time - I had planned to paint a life-sized standing portrait of myself but that was all too ambitious. All I could manage was a quick sketch on the couch, from a mirror leaning on the coffee table - our new dog by my side.

At last our son has arrived - just a few days old and angry at the world to boot. Light glows around father and son just beginning a life long bond, yet hardly knowing one another. The best is yet to come.

This piece depicts a quiet moment together away from guests, freshly postpartum, when my son was just 5 weeks old. I spent a lot of time looking at Mary Cassatt for this one, especially after seeing her show at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Mary Cassatt was the first artist I did a mastercopy from, in the 2nd grade. It was quite a challenge working from a photo I had taken for this piece but that was all I could manage to capture the moment at the time. Now I've brought it to life in paint, trying to let go and make a mess. A lot like motherhood.

I began this piece while my son was just 3 months old. I was walking past the mirror outside his nursery and caught a glimpse of my hand holding him against my chest--the only comfort he knows. I saw something beautiful in the simplicity of the gesture. The emotional weight of this piece runs much deeper for me. This embrace is something mothers experience day in and day out that it becomes commonplace. It’s a reflection of love that deserves to be elevated into a work of art. During the early months, I took countless photographs to help reconnect with my creativity and to preserve the fleeting moments of early motherhood. Some seemingly going on forever. Our bodies and minds change, we suddenly exist on 24 hour schedules and put this strangers' needs above our own. A stranger who we feel we have known forever.

I finished this painting during my sons naps although I had started it a couple of years ago when we first moved in. It's an amalgamation of a few layers of rearranging furniture, new lights, painted walls. The view is ever-changing; the addition of a high chair in the kitchen for our growing family inspired me to pick it back up again. I loved the loose strings draping from him pulling on the ties during meal time.

A view I am all too familiar with - many long hours spent in the dark rocking my son to sleep. I actually first started this piece when we moved in. The room was dark, there were no lights and the walls were unpainted. Since I painted my study the furniture and walls have changed and so have our lives.

With this piece I depicted a moment in time with our log home which has a rich history and a story to tell. The cabin was built in the 1840s from American Chestnut logs, a massive tree that was tragically lost to blight. It miraculously survived the Burning of Chambersburg and was moved to its current location in 1930. Many families and generations have lived amongst these logs before us and we chose to take on the daunting task of stewarding the home through the next part of its life. Like many old homes, it is in need of serious repair. We are doing most of the work ourselves, building a garden, raising chickens, and nodding to a traditional way of life the best we can among a modern everchanging world. We will raise our own family here, stepping through the threshold in time to leave our mark on this place which, in spite of the odds - fire, blight, and time - is still standing.