Back in 2021, I felt dull and lost and in the dark. It was post-covid and a very lonely summer.

So, obviously, I took myself on my first solo vacation. I called it a “walkabout” and each day I wrote myself letters outside my fancy mountain tent. (And drew pictures the day’s highlights.)

“Out here my path is lit by stars and planets and ancient light that will outlive me by centuries. It's like Jupiter knew I needed a cosmic flashlight. Can’t I bottle up that night sky… unfurl it in my chest and let those burning rocks be my compass? Are Saturn and Venus more honest and wise than my instincts? Can they light the path to my internal knowing? Can then beam confidence and courage into my soul? Would I even recognize it if they did?

When was the last time I felt so starlit and quiet?

This feeling of fear meets sky is overwhelming and comforting. For 24 hours I’ve felt small and electric and scared and alone, but too big for my skin and too loud for my feelings.”

[Travel Journal, August 2021]

I’ve been charmed by the mythology of the stars since I was a little girl. The constellations, the colors, the light: The sky held a freedom for me. There’s magic up there. Over the past two years I’ve navigated epic life changes. This collection of 149 original paintings represents my way of mapping what’s next and finding my way back to myself and that sparkle.