I always wanted to be an artist and a writer…but it took me a long time to allow myself to own that truth.

For a long time, I tried on many ways of making sense of the world—and myself. Through study, through relationships, through spirituality, through work that promised clarity or healing or answers. Some of it was meaningful. Some of it was necessary. All of it eventually fell away.

What remained was this:
Presence. Paying attention. Reflection.

Dreams were one of the first places I learned how to listen. They became invitations nto feeling, symbol, memory, and the parts of life that don’t move in straight lines. Over time, that same kind of listening began to shape how I moved through everything else: love, loss, identity, creativity.

I write from inside that listening.

My work lives at the intersection of inner life and lived experience—where dreams meet relationships, where imagination meets the body, where clarity is often found not through fixing, but through staying present with what is real. I’m less interested in transformation as an outcome and more interested in what it’s like to be here while things are always changing.

Although I’ve spent years studying psychology and am currently completing doctoral research in transpersonal psychology, those frameworks sit quietly in the background now. They inform my thinking, but they don’t lead it. What leads is experience—my own, and the shared human questions that show up again and again:
How do we live honestly and authentically in a world that values homogeny?
How do we love fully without losing ourselves?
How do we stay awake in world that wants to lull us to sleep?

Much of what I write is personal, but not private. I’m interested in the places where individual experience opens into something collective—where a single story becomes a mirror rather than a performance.

These days, my life is simple. I live close to the forest. I write. I walk. I listen. I make space for conversations that don’t rush toward resolution. I let things take the time they take.

If you’re here, I’m glad you found your way.