I used to think inspiration was something I had to chase.

If I wasn’t creating, producing, solving the next problem or moving something forward, I had the uncomfortable feeling that I was falling behind.

Then I went to Florence.

For a long time, I felt a pull toward refinement. Toward resolving an image fully, bringing it to a point where everything felt complete and intentional. But over time, I began to notice that some of the most compelling moments in a painting weren’t in the finished areas.

There’s a strange shift that happens. You move from evaluating work at a high level, back into your own studio, and there’s a moment where you pause. Where you look at what you’re making and wonder how it holds up.

The mind can take that in different directions. What I’ve had to remind myself is that the role of a judge and the role of an artist are not the same. One requires distance. The other requires trust.

There’s a difference between being part of something and being seen within it.

For the past few years, I’ve been working closely with Milan Art, mostly behind the scenes. Building, shaping, and contributing in ways that aren’t always visible from the outside. It’s work I care deeply about, and work that has shaped me as much as my own art practice. But it also meant that my role, at least outwardly, felt defined.

This past year, that began to shift.

Art is my way of making sense of the world… a balance between what we see and feel, clarity and uncertainty. Through the Mastery Program, I uncovered my purpose as an artist and learned to embrace vulnerability and connection. Join me as I share insights, stories, and reflections on the transformative power of creativity. Ask me why I love the Mastery Program. I’d love to share more about this journey with you.