On Hanging My Heart on Public Walls

I was nervous — nervous to put my heart and soul on the walls, nervous to invite people to step into my therapeutic practice, to take time out of their days and look at my guts in color and form.

The show came together quickly, though it had been floating in my dream-space for years. In reality, I had about six weeks to pull it all off. It all started when my friend — the mother of two sweet kids I babysit — hosted a community event at the Center for Creativity in the Historic Carnegie Library. She told me you could rent gallery spaces in the building. All you have to do is rent, she said. It sounded simple enough.

So I reached out, had meetings, made a plan, and executed it the best I could — between playground trips and dog walks, between the rhythm of everyday life.

Until now, I’ve been rather private with my art. I’ve shared bits and pieces on social media, but rarely my voice or my face alongside the work. That has changed.

This gallery show marked a turning point. My work, once private, is now out in the world, breathing in community. I am mid-transformation, learning to share not just the art, but the story, the chaos, the beauty that runs through both.

And I am grateful — grateful for the space, for the people who showed up, for the chance to find and share beauty amid life’s chaos.