Born in the woods of Northern Michigan, the land, a setting, especially bodies of water work their way into most of my work:
I’ve lived in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan where Lake Superior’s frigid waves crashed or lulled, depending upon her mood; off to Chicago, Illinois, where Lake Michigan was the backdrop of a vibrant, creative city; to San Francisco where the majestic Bay and mountain views peeked through the inevitable fog; and now to Seattle, Washington, with the jagged snow-peaked mountains, the gray, salt-tinged Puget Sound, and the rows and rows of evergreens, where the bones of my body have finally found their place to tunnel and root.
I grew up in the theatre—singing, acting, writing—and all throughout high school, college, and my twenties, I performed. Then, five years ago, as I was set to found my own theatre ensemble in Seattle, finishing up my debut novel, Lyme disease flared.
The Lyme snatched away my way of life and I went into hiding, healing, and became a new mother. I focused all of my attention on my child and my healing journey, and found that my gifts of creativity lent themselves to the growth of my beautiful, beautiful child. I became slow and intentional with my time and projects and people. I began to care for myself, not just others. I’ve been meticulously chipping away at my dreams, and now, after years of battling this disease, I’m coming out of this healing period stronger and wiser, and very, very ready to be seen again.