When I first started painting the female form, I strived for perfection—correct proportions, realistic skin tones, and well-defined forms. I wrestled with whether to use a grid for proportion guidance and whether to incorporate vibrant colours in skin tones. Each piece became a battleground between technical precision and creative freedom.

This internal struggle drained my energy and shook my confidence as an artist. How could I not achieve perfect proportions? Eventually, I chose to embrace my imperfectly drawn figures, accepting that I wouldn't be an artist known for anatomical precision.

Instead, I became an artist who celebrates our human imperfections. Our self-perception is often distorted and incomplete—at any age, we're searching for greater self-acceptance, self-love, or self-improvement. My art honours these distortions, this incompleteness, this yearning for more. I want to show that even though we may see ourselves as flawed, even though our self-perception may be distorted, even though we may feel "badly drawn," we are beautiful exactly as we are.

My mixed media women have been described as beautiful and feisty, with tons of attitude. They've also been called inspirational, offering hope when things seem bleak and reminding viewers that they are stronger than they realize. I love their bold colours and vibrancy, the glimpses of fragility and most of all, I love how each and every one of them owns their space. Each woman is holding onto something: a feeling, attitude or idea that’s reminding her she's stronger and braver than she believes.

I no longer have the urge to keep my foot on the perfectionist pedal—instead, I'm following my own advice to be kinder to myself by simply enjoying being an artist who loves contrasts and mixed media. Who knows where that might lead me?