I create because something in me withers when I don’t. Creating isn’t optional for me; it is survival. If I were forced to give up my craft, it would feel like losing a vital part of myself.

I have lived with suicidal ideation for much of my life and have found real peace in the act of making. My hands have always been busy—crocheting baby blankets for friends and family, crafting with my children, and doodling whenever I can. Making is how I stay.

Creating is, for me, an act of survival and resistance. I am the culmination of my lived experience. I have wanted to die, and I have chosen to keep living—to keep fighting in a country that often makes it feel as though my life would be easier if it were erased.

I came to embroidery after years of crocheting, and something in my soul came alive. When I work with needle and thread, the world shifts. I am especially drawn to portraiture. I began with simple line portraits and gradually incorporated felt, punch needle, appliqué, and beading. The process brings a deep sense of satiety and fulfillment—a quiet wholeness that stays with me.

My work centers on the beauty of Black people. Many of my current pieces feature people I know, but my intention is broader: to reflect Black beauty back to Black communities and to insist on it in a world that often refuses to see it. Racism has always felt illogical to me—how else can you explain the desire to erase someone because of the color of their skin?

By creating fiber portraits that highlight Black beauty, I reject the idea that racism is acceptable or rational. I ask the viewer to look again and truly see the people they have been taught to overlook or despise. I am especially committed to uplifting Black men. I have been deeply blessed to be surrounded by good Black men, and my work is one way I honor and share that truth.