How did you first become interested in your current creative path?
Creativity has always been a quiet, steady thread woven through my life. My mother, an artist herself, filled our home with wonder—painting larger-than-life Disney murals and sketching doll-like figures that sparked imagination and joy. At the same time, my brother, who has cerebral palsy and is blind, taught me that art could be a language beyond words—a way for our family to connect, express, and understand one another on a deeper, more intuitive level.

As a child, art was where I felt most at home. It gave shape to emotions that felt too big or too complex to speak aloud. Over time, as I began working in mental health settings, I saw how this same creative process could offer others a path—not just for expression, but for regulation, insight, and healing. That realization led me to mindfulness and meditation practices, and eventually to a brief time living in a Buddhist monastery. From there, the path unfolded naturally into art therapy, where I found the intersection of creativity, presence, and healing.

Today, I hold space for others to return to themselves through art—gently, compassionately, and at their own pace. Creativity remains both my anchor and my offering.

How do you see the connection between art and healing/therapy/counseling?
Art bypasses the intellectual and moves directly into the body, the subconscious, the parts of us that don’t always have language. In therapy, especially trauma-focused work, art allows for a kind of safe exploration—it can hold pain, joy, fear, and resilience all at once. The creative process helps people externalize what’s internal, regulate their nervous system, and see their story from a new perspective. It’s a profound, embodied form of meaning-making.

What did you study, and how did you know this path is the one for you?
I studied Marital and Family Therapy with a specialization in Clinical Art Therapy. I knew this path was for me because it merged everything I valued: creativity, emotional depth, social justice, cultural humility and the power of presence. Working in community spaces, with diverse populations and different abilities, reinforced how deeply needed trauma-informed, creative care is—and how much healing can happen in spaces of non judgment and imagination.

Could you please share some tools or techniques that could help someone on the day-to-day?
A few simple practices I love:

• Color & breath check-in: Close your eyes, notice how you feel, and choose a color to represent it. Take a breath and gently draw it out.

• Self-hug: Cross your arms and gently squeeze your shoulders—a grounding and self-soothing gesture.

• Sensory grounding: Carry a smooth stone in your palm to help orient yourself when feeling dysregulated.

• Create an “intuitive collage”: Collage on 5x7 index card; images of what you’re feeling or inspired by, what safety/ calm may look like for you, include an affirmation or quote that inspires/ grounds you and keep it nearby. This can be employed for grounding future goals/ manifestations as well. 

• Parasympathetic sigh: Breathing technique that involves a double inhale through the nose followed by an extended exhale through the mouth, designed to activate the parasympathetic nervous system and promote relaxation. 

Could you share with us some goals and dreams?
One dream is to open a community healing space rooted in expressive arts and ancestral wisdom—where people of all identities and abilities can gather, create, and restore. I also hope to continue writing and creating workbooks, workshops, and retreats that make therapeutic tools more accessible outside the traditional therapy room. I have an 8-week series coming up for female/ non-binary clinicians  “What We Carry”. This series was created in response to the emotional and energetic weight that so many clinicians—and those in training—carry. It’s a space to reconnect with ourselves through creativity, mindfulness, and shared reflection, all while being witnessed and supported in community

What role does ritual or daily practice play in your work?
Rituals are how I root myself—both personally and professionally. My mornings begin with a visualization meditation, followed by the grounding act of making a pour-over coffee. I then move into freehand journaling and a gratitude practice, where I name three things I’m grateful for—ranging from the ordinary to the profound. I often close with an affirmation, like “I am home,” a phrase I return to often for grounding and belonging.

During graduate school, I dedicated my research to understanding how clinicians integrate ritual into both their personal lives and therapeutic work. I explored where these rituals originate—from spiritual traditions, cultural practices, personal creativity, or through the art directives and transitions we create in session.

In my own practice, rituals might include setting intentions before meeting with a client, lighting a candle before creating, using sound or breath to cleanse a space, taking a walk after emotionally intense sessions, or ending the day with a hot shower to reset. These simple acts anchor me. They help me stay present, embodied, and connected—and create rhythm and safety in the midst of life’s unpredictability.

What music or books are inspiring you lately?
Lately, I’ve been turning to my “Feel Good” playlist—songs like Apollo by St. Paul & The Broken Bones, and Morals by Africa Express, Mr. Jukes, Muzi, Mahotella Queens, and Moonchild Sanelly always lift my spirit and reconnect me to play through rhythm and movement.

As for books, two that have deeply shaped me are The Book of Alchemy and Between Two Kingdoms by Suleika Jaouad. I’m also continually inspired by Pleasure Activism by Adrienne Maree Brown. Each of these works explores the complexity of life’s transitions, the power of embodiment, and how creativity and pleasure can be radical, liberating forces in our healing journeys and in creating community.

How do you find peace or tranquility?
Peace often comes in moments of slowness—making tea/ coffee, painting/ making art with no goal for the pure pleasure of it, walking barefoot in nature, or simply being still with myself. I also find tranquility in connection—laughing with loved ones or being seen in silence. These days, I only say yes to what brings delight to my inner child—joy and play are my guiding values.

What are you currently inspired by & does that influence your work?
Lately, I’ve been inspired by paradox—the ability to hold pain and pleasure, beauty and discomfort, light and shadow all at once. I’m drawn to the spaces where cracks let in both darkness and light, where multiple truths can coexist. This way of being invites freedom and a deeper understanding of ourselves and one another.

Life isn’t black and white. With so much suffering in the world, it’s essential that we learn to witness and hold that complexity—so that we can also remain open to wonder, connection, and the magic that’s still present. It’s in honoring the ache, the awe, and the in between that healing becomes possible.

This perspective deeply shapes how I approach both my creative and therapeutic work. I strive to create spaces—whether in group settings, one-on-one sessions, or through art—where complexity is not only welcomed but honored.

By embracing paradox, I invite others to let go of binary thinking and allow themselves to feel multiple emotions at once: grief and gratitude, fear and excitement, confusion and clarity. It creates room for authenticity, for stories that are layered, and for healing that isn’t linear.

In practice, this looks like making space for messiness in the art-making process, holding silence without rushing to fix, and guiding people toward self-compassion even in the midst of struggle. It's about witnessing the whole person—and teaching them to witness themselves—with tenderness, curiosity, and a sense of possibility.

What’s your relationship to coffee, tea, or other daily grounding rituals?
Every morning, I begin the day with the ritual of making a pour-over coffee. The slow process—steeping, waiting, and sipping—becomes a form of meditation. I hold the cup with both hands as a grounding practice. It’s a gentle way to start the day with presence rather than urgency.

In the evening, I close the day with a similar ritual using herbal tea. As I sip, I take time to reflect, often releasing the weight of the day through journaling or expressive art-making. These simple, intentional moments bookend my day with mindfulness, helping me stay connected to myself amidst the noise of daily life. 

In your experience, what can creativity unlock that words sometimes can’t?
Creativity unlocks truth. It gives form to the unspoken—grief that’s buried, joy that’s too big for words, trauma that’s hard to name. It provides a language that’s ancient, embodied, and intuitive. It helps people say, “This is how it feels,” when words fall short.

What’s one object in your home that holds special meaning for you?
The art in my home; a paw print painting I made with my dog, Moloa that passed earlier this year, I collect female figurines carved out of wood from artists around the world; I currently have some in my office from Morocco and Cuba. Lastly, a charcoal drawing of a photograph from my engagement, created by Erica Chau, my brother-in- law’s partner.  

How does nature (or your surroundings) influence your inner world?
Nature is my teacher. I look to the ocean for depth/ releasing grief/ sorrow, to trees for wisdom, to the moon for rhythm. Living close to nature reminds me to soften, to slow down, and to stay connected to something greater than myself. What a wonderful world we live in. 

How does community or connection show up in your work or creative life?
Community is at the heart of everything I do. Whether I’m facilitating a group, collaborating with other creatives, or witnessing someone’s story unfold through art, connection brings meaning and depth to my work. Healing doesn’t happen in isolation—it happens when we are seen, held, and mirrored by others. My mission is to help people reconnect to their innate ability to heal through creative expression. I believe creativity is the root of our shared humanity—a language that transcends words, taps into the soul, and invites transformation. Through art, we remember who we are, reclaim our stories, and cultivate change from the inside out.