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I grew up in Wolseley, downtown Winnipeg. The beautiful elm trees formed a canopy under which my friends, sisters and I would endlessly play. Regular games of kick the can formed our street culture. In winter we’d build huge snowpeople that we had to get an adult’s help to assemble.


From a young age, I drew constantly. “Voici un cheval” (Here is a horse) is a drawing I did in kindergarten.

Come grade one, I became very interested in drawing people. I would create imaginary worlds and give the characters names in gibberish.

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Sometimes the people I drew were naked. Growing up in a relatively conservative christian home, I was very afraid that what I was drawing was evil!

After completing a drawing, I would rip it up, and throw it into the recycling.

Drawing became a means of catharsis; a visual journal to explore my emotions and experiences. I could create my inner monsters and draw the height of my emotions.

As graduation approached I busied myself with low paying jobs. At one point I was working at Baked Expectations, taught for my mom’s math program, helped home-school a grade five student, and started (and quickly ended) a job at Starbucks. I knew I wanted to be an artist, it just seemed like an impossible dream. It felt like it was easier to do anything but art.

As I bounced around from country to country, and job to job, I was constantly searching for what I already knew. Fear is such a strong motivator, and I was afraid that nothing could come of making art.

Living in Toronto, I finally hit a wall. Nothing, and nowhere would acquit me of my restlessness. It was time to make a change.

I began selling my responsibly made clothing, as I figured it was a more marketable than art. Realizing that it was time to go back home to Winnipeg, I returned, and with me I brought the drive to finally do what I had been running from.

Now I am lucky to have a studio space that I work out of five days a week. I create for the joy of it, the peace of mind that it gives me, as well as a means to sustain myself.