Dedication
Creativity isn’t what you do; it’s who you are. Sometimes it takes seeing it in someone else to recognize it in yourself.
“There’s no retirement for an artist — it’s your way of living, so there’s no end to it.”
I came across Henry Moore’s words recently, and they felt like a mirror of something I’ve been discovering in myself. Preparing for my recent solo show, the question I kept reflecting on was simple: how did I get here? The answer, I realized, has been with me all along—in the way my mom carried her creativity quietly, fully, in the subtle forms that leave a lasting imprint. Moore’s words gave voice to a truth I had long carried, though I hadn’t yet named.
Opening night was packed, the room buzzing with conversation and connection. People were curious, drawn in by the work and by each other, and a shared energy moved through the space. I had planned to give a short speech, but the night carried its own rhythm. While walking a small group through a few pieces, I shared what I had planned to say to everyone: I dedicated the show to my mom, and to what she taught me—that creativity isn’t what you do; it’s who you are.
Every moment of hers carried this presence, regardless of whether it was a craft project or a small daily act. Her lens on the world was connection, and everything she did reflected that—whether teaching, baking, crafting, or simply moving through the day with intention. She crocheted dolls for children in Haiti and knitted hats for cancer patients in the hospital, acts of care born from her own experience. She added playful touches to daily life— faces on my lunch bags, names for her cars, and careful handmade details at every holiday place-setting. She even flew them 6000 miles for my wedding. Selfless, kind, humble, strong, and quietly fierce, she lived with equal parts grace and grit; creativity inseparable from her presence, the kind Moore describes, a way of living that never ends.
Watching her, I didn’t realize at the time what I was learning, but now I see how fully she inhabited an artistic way of living. Her way of being shaped me deeply, guiding how I inhabit my own creativity and what it means to live creatively.
Even before I had the words for it, I was carrying something I had learned from my mom. In my career, I brought my “who” to the work—the curiosity, attention, and care that shaped how I approached projects, experiences, and teams. The measures of value often focused on what I delivered or how I produced it, but my presence flowed through everything I did.
Reflecting on how I got here, I had an a-ha. All along, my creativity has been inseparable from who I am. Remembering how fully my mom inhabited her own creative life helped me recognize that same continuity in myself; the curiosity, discernment, and grit that have always guided how I live. It’s the same energy that guided me then and now, the same essence my mom modeled in everything she did.
Dedicating the show to my mom was a proud acknowledgment of the life she lived; full of curiosity, care, and creativity at the core of who she was. It was a thank you for what she taught me, and for showing me that creativity isn’t something you do; it’s who you are. It flows daily in attention, care, curiosity, and connection.
What lucky humans we are to live, and have lived, creatively.