Behind the Process: Honesty, Adaptability & Art

Welcome to my studio corner. I believe in complete transparency about how my work comes to life. Every medium I use—from traditional ink to digital lines—is a reflection of where I am, how I adapt, and how I work through the world around me.

Here is an honest look at how each piece is made:

If you look closely at my pen-and-ink work, you’re seeing a deeply personal compromise between my traditional artistic roots and the reality of my body today.

As I’ve gotten older, my hands aren't as steady, my eyes aren't as sharp, and chronic pain sometimes keeps me couch- or bed-bound. In the past, traditional sketching on paper triggered an exhausting cycle of perfectionism and OCD: every smudge and paper indentation meant throwing the sheet away and starting over. To create sustainably, I developed a hybrid method:

• The Base Layout: I sketch the initial line guidelines digitally in Procreate, where I can freely refine and erase without damaging physical paper.
• The Paper & Ink: I print a faint version of that base outline onto 400 Series Bristol or Mixed Media paper. From there, every single line, stipple mark, and shadow is completed entirely by hand, drawing intuitively with Micron pens, charcoal pencils, gouche, and/or watercolors.
• Limited Series of 3: I use a single base outline a maximum of 3 times before retiring it permanently. Because every piece is hand-inked intuitively, no two are ever identical—making each one a unique, hand-inked limited edition.
• Limited Print Edition: After the three hand‑inked originals are completed, a numbered run of 25 limited prints will be released. Once all 25 are sold, the design is fully retired and will never be reprinted. 
• Single‑Edition Hand Drawn: Some pieces begin without a digital base, sketched and inked entirely by hand from the first mark. These works are created once and never recreated; a small run of limited prints may be produced, and once those are sold, the design is fully retired. 

There is a common misconception that digital art is "cheating" or "easier." As someone who spent years working solely with traditional tools, I can confidently say it isn't easier—it’s simply a different medium.

For a long time, I was actually against digital art because I missed the tactile feel of pencil on paper. But as chronic pain worsened, the physical demands of setup and cleanup caused me to stop making art altogether. When I was gifted an iPad, everything changed.

Digital tools gave me a way to create anywhere, at any time, without needing a room full of supplies. When pain confines me to bed with a heating pad, my iPad allows me to keep making art. It reignited my creative healing and gave me a quiet space to process the mental chaos that chronic illness often brings.

Art isn’t found in the difficulty of the process or the rigidity of the rules. It is found in the persistence of the spirit that refuses to let the creative spark die out. My hybrid process and digital tablet are not shortcuts. They are my lifeline. They are how I turn chaos into beauty, right from where I am sitting.