TM

I often get asked what type or style of artist I am. I love to design and I love to build, so the quick answer is always designer-craftsman. But on a deeper level, I see myself as a visual storyteller.

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For as long as I can remember, I’ve been building and creating. As a child, books held little interest for me, but give me a set of blocks, Legos, or a box of crayons and markers, and I felt ready to take on the world. I found my voice through experimentation—by watching, listening, and figuring things out. I was often called “resourceful,” sometimes with a hint of mischief, though I like to think of those moments as innocent creative expressions with a wink and a nod.

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By the time I reached elementary school, it was clear that traditional academics and I didn’t quite fit. At eight years old, I was diagnosed with a trio of reading and language disorders, which only deepened the challenges I faced in school. Those years, and many thereafter, were marked by struggles with self-worth, bullying, and a constant questioning of what was “wrong” with me.

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Art became my refuge. At ten, I began formal art lessons and was captivated by artists like van Gogh, Picasso, and Monet—their techniques, their emotion, their visual stories. Yet, I found myself drawn most to the glass, tools, and equipment in the adjacent studio. After months of pleading, my teacher finally relented from her “too dangerous” stance and allowed me to try glasswork. From the first shards I cut and the small mosaic I created, I was hooked. That moment sparked a lifelong passion, and more than a decade later, I continue to explore the myriad of possibilities in working with glass. Along the way, I’ve discovered my true language.

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Today, my art is no longer an escape—it’s a pursuit of passion and purpose. The process of transforming ideas into tangible form, of refining technique and craftsmanship, is what drives me. Each sculpture I create is an interactive story, unfolding layer by layer—a visual expression of thought, emotion, and interpretation. Whether I’m realizing my own vision or bringing a client’s concept to life, every piece tells a story.

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What I love most is that the soul of each sculpture doesn't fully reveal itself until it finds a home. My art is never created for me; every piece is intended for someone else – though that person is often a mystery at the time of creation. When a collector connects with a piece in a deeply personal way, allowing its meaning to transform through their own perspective, that’s when I find the greatest joy. It’s in those moments of conversation and shared discovery, when our stories intertwine, that the artwork’s lasting identity is unveiled; where my passion finally meets its purpose.