People sometimes ask: weren't you a designer? Do you still make art?
Yes. I have always worked as both an artist and a care coordinator.
I held fiduciary roles for over twenty years, and have been designing for over twenty-five.
These aren't separate paths for me; they're two expressions of the same core work: helping people and systems become more whole.
Which one I lead with depends on what's in motion in my own life and what's most needed in the world around me.
The Core Work
In seasons of personal stability and rootedness, I can hold steady presence for families navigating complex care planning. That work requires me to be still, to know where I am, to be reliably available when a family is in crisis or transition. I can do that.
In seasons of personal movement and change, I'm less steady for others who need constancy. In those times, I offer what I have: design work, creative problem-solving, the ability to see and build systems. I can be useful in that way instead.
I also take on special projects and intensive assignments that demand full focus. A design suite that needs my complete attention. A client or community work that requires me to shut my books to other things until the task is finished. I learned this model the hard way: trying to juggle too many things for too many people left me burnt out and frustrated, and it didn't serve anyone well. Now I work intentionally within my capacity. I close my books when I need to. I focus.
This isn't inconstancy. It's honest stewardship of my own capacity. I offer my strongest self to the work that's calling, and I have learned that sometimes that's care planning and sometimes that's creativity. The people who need me know which season I'm in, and they know I will show up fully in whatever way I can.
Families who are overwhelmed, scattered, and trying to manage too many things without a system end up the same way. This care planning work is built on the same principle. Getting you clear, organized, and present. So you're less frustrated and more able to show up for the people you love.
At the foundation of everything I do is a simple belief. Chaos, disorder, and systems breaking down are invitations. They are places where something needs to be rebuilt, reimagined, or integrated more deeply with what actually matters.
When a design system is fragmented, I see an opportunity to create coherence and clarity. When a community is fractured or unmet, I see a chance to build connection and mutual care. When a family is facing a health crisis or end-of-life transition without clarity about values and wishes, I see the moment to get everyone on the same page so love can actually work.
The work looks different depending on the shape of the need. But the principle is the same: bring order, coherence, and integrity to systems so people can stop spinning and start living.