A Year of Breaking, Becoming & Belonging
It was a year that stripped me down — physically, emotionally, and financially — and then slowly showed me what remained: love, community, and the unbreakable force of creative spirit.
The Hard Parts
This year, my body demanded that I stop. A sudden and serious brain bleed put me in the ICU in Aug for 15 days. I lost two full months of work and independence. For someone who has always lived by her hands, her ideas, and her service to others, this was deeply frightening. Medical bills piled up. The uncertainty was overwhelming. I had to face something many of us struggle with — the vulnerability of needing help.
My friend Stacy
Stacy Simms https://www.thewell.world/ started a GoFundMe for me — something I never imagined for myself. But then something extraordinary happened:
People I had not seen in years… strangers… former students… neighbors… artists… and loved ones from across the world showed up. Their generosity became a lifeline — and a reminder that I am held by something much larger than myself.
At the same time, our Cincinnati art community suffered another heartbreak with the sudden loss of Da’Mon Butler, a gentle, radiant artist and caregiver. His passing shook us deeply and reminded us how fragile and precious life is.
Grief and illness walked beside me this year — but they were not alone.
The Beautiful Parts
Even in the hardest moments, art never left me.
2025 was also a year of powerful creative rebirth.
I continued deepening my eco-printing practice — working with leaves, flowers, and the wisdom of the earth to create works that speak of impermanence, resilience, and renewal. My mandala and kolam practice remained a spiritual anchor, carrying prayers, stories, and healing through pattern and repetition.
My ethereal spin art emerged as one of the year’s most joyful surprises. Watching paint fly outward from a center — unpredictable, wild, and beautiful — became a living metaphor for my own life. Spin art allowed me to release control, embrace chaos, and celebrate motion, energy, and play. It brought laughter back into my studio. I also began shaping a large-scale dream:
Sacred Geometry of Belonging, my proposal for BLINK Cincinnati 2026 — an interactive, community-built mandala that holds migrant stories, sacred geometry, and collective healing.
Community as Art
This year, my work extended far beyond my studio.
At Utsavastu in East Walnut Hills, I continued hosting:
- communal dinners
- art gatherings
- healing mandala circles
- and creative workshops
These were not just events — they were living artworks.
Even while I was recovering, even when I was tired or afraid, I kept opening my doors — because community is one of the greatest forms of healing I know.
What 2025 Taught Me
This year taught me something sacred:
We do not survive alone.
I learned that strength is not only in independence —
I learned that strength is not only in independence —
It is also in allowing ourselves to be held.
I learned that creativity — whether through mandalas, eco prints, or spinning paint — is not just what I do.
It is how I pray.
It is how I heal.
I learned that community, when rooted in love, becomes a living mandala — each person a petal, each act of kindness a thread holding us together.
Stepping into 2026
I step into 2026 changed — but not broken.
I carry scars, yes —
but also deeper gratitude, clearer boundaries, and a stronger connection to my purpose:
to create art that heals,
to build spaces that welcome,
and to honor the divine feminine, the earth, and the stories we all carry.
2025 was a year of falling apart —
and discovering how deeply I am loved.
2026 is the year I rise.
A New Chapter of Fierce Becoming
In January 2026, I received news that changed everything.
The breast cancer I survived in 2019 has returned — this time in my lungs.
There are moments when words feel too small for what this means. But I know this:
I am still here. I am still creating. And I am still a woman whose spirit has never been easy to erase.
Cancer has walked beside me before, and it taught me something I carry into this new chapter:
The body may be fragile, but the soul is not.
Why I Will Make New Art in 2026
This diagnosis does not close my creative life — it opens a new one.
In 2026, I am choosing to create work that centers:
- Resilience instead of fear
- Women instead of silence
- The sacred power of survival
My new work will honor the warrior within every woman — the part of us that continues to bloom even when the world tells us we are broken.
Through mandalas, eco prints, spin art, and ritual-based installations, I will be exploring:
- What it means to breathe when breath is precious
- What it means to love when time is uncertain
- What it means to belong to a body that keeps fighting
- This will not be about dying. This will be art about staying alive
Women as Sacred Geometry
Women have always been at the center of my work — goddesses, mothers, daughters, caregivers, migrants, artists, survivors.
In 2026, women will become the geometry itself:
- Each woman is a circle.
- Each story a pattern
- Each act of survival a sacred design
My new series will hold:
- women facing illness
- women holding families
- women rebuilding lives
- women who refuse to disappear
This is how I pray now — with pigment, paper, earth, and love.
What I Know for Sure
I do not know what the coming months will bring.
But I do know this: I am not finished. My story is not over.
My art is becoming even more powerful because it is being made from the edge.
2026 will be
…A year of fierce beauty
…A year of brave creation
…A year of women rising — including me
…A year of fierce beauty
…A year of brave creation
…A year of women rising — including me
