Welcome

However you arrived, I’m grateful you found your way here.

People often arrive here when something has shifted and the old way of living no longer holds.

It may be grief, death, or a season of change that has brought you to the edge. It may be a longing for meaning, a sense that you have lost touch with yourself, or a call toward ancestral repair. It may be spiritual emergence, sensitivity to the unseen, or spirit activity in your home or field that you do not yet know how to meet. Whatever brings you here, there is usually an inner knowing that something deeper is asking for your attention.

This work is rooted in lived experience and years of practice, including sitting at bedsides, supporting spiritual emergence, and tending the kinds of experiences that do not fit neatly into language.

Together, we create a grounded, intuitive space that can hold both tenderness and truth. We work gently and with precision. This is a space for honesty and becoming more whole, for tending what is raw, unspoken, or exiled, and for meeting shadow and inherited pain with care, curiosity, and compassion.

This work is also about reconnection: to your body, your inner wisdom, and the allies who walk with you (human and other than human). Through ritual, embodied presence, and attunement to the more than human world, we make room for what has been waiting to come through. We release what no longer belongs so more space can open for clarity, wholeness, and your innate gifts to take root.

Creative expression is one of the most direct ways I know to listen beneath the thinking mind. My years as a public artist, and my work offering creative practices to clients, have shown me how creativity can soften what has hardened and give form to what has been unspoken. Through collage, painting, movement, and symbolic imagery, new layers of clarity and relationship become possible.

I come to this work shaped by devotion and the sacred ordinary. I am a mother walking alongside a teen who continues to teach me how to soften and listen, a lifelong gardener, an artist, and a steward of the land I call home. My queerness emerged later in life as I learned to inhabit myself more fully, deepening my commitment to authenticity, cultural healing, and inner freedom.

Death has been a primary initiation in my life. I lost my mother at 18, my husband at 28, and my father at 32. These losses widened me, softened me, and shaped how I accompany others. They taught me how to sit with what cannot be fixed, how to stay close to what is tender and true, and how to trust the kind of healing that unfolds through humility, surrender, and the slow unfolding. This is part of what informs my stewardship of this work.

My work is in service to the living, the dying, and the dead, shaped by reverence for death and relationship with the unseen. I believe we are not broken, we are remembering, and that your medicine is not something you must seek, but something you come home to.