Behind the Easel: "Mommy and Me" (2018)

February 27, 2025

Story: A larger than life version of my mother’s memory of brushing my hair after my first chemo treatments. We are seated in front of a wall of leukocytes, white blood cells, to stand in for the Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia that impacted our lives at that time. We are crowned to show the importance of our relationship, and implies my mother’s catholic background as well. I am coloring while wearing a bright yellow dress, trimmed with a butterfly collar. • Silly story: my son, who was 2 at the time, actually scribbled on the lower right area, although some is covered, knowing it is there makes me laugh.

Symbols: Butterflies, dress, blood, crayons, crowns, hair, blood cells, drawing, jewels, mother, daughter, hairbrush, hair loss, side effects

Media: Acrylic, plastic, hair, plastic jewels, fabric, paper, color pencils, bristles, water-soluble oils, rice paper on canvas

Below are some vids of past Twitch streams while creating this work from 2018.

Painting blood cells part 1

Painting blood cells part 2

Creating the butterfly watercolor and rice paper trim for my yellow dress.

Behind the Easel: "Pieces of You" (Breast Cancer Bust for 2019 Bra-Vo in Mt. Dora Florida)

February 27, 2025

Good day to you all.

I thought I would share with you behind the scenes on the my favorite project from 2019: “Pieces of You,” my decorated bust for the Bra-Vo Exhibit in Mt. Dora, Florida. It was on display at Mt. Dora Center for the Arts Gallery from October 5th to the 27th, 2019. I wish I could have made another bust to benefit a wonderful cause but unfortunately, like many things in 2020, Covid-19 put the brakes on Bra-Vo’s Exhibit. They did have a successful run of it in 2021. I missed it again in 2021 due to other obligations, but am hopeful for 2022.

Bra-Vo is an art fundraiser put on by Artisans of Mt. Dora (Previously Artisans on 5th), a non-profit co-op gallery in Mt. Dora, Florida. Every year in August, since in 2012, their Bra-Vo exhibit raises money to provide low or no-cost diagnostic testing for breast cancer for residents of Lake County, Florida. They do this through the sales and votes for Art Bras (bust sculptures) created by artists, students and merchants. Bra-Vo is also funded through generous donations, sponsorships with the local community, silent auctions, and other ticketed events for the fundraiser. Although they missed 2020, they returned in 2021 and successfully raised $8,923.61 for the Waterman Foundation at Waterman Hospital!

In 2019, I stumbled upon this thanks for Google and felt it aligned perfectly with the direction of my Cancer Series. It had only been 3 years since dad passed from Lung Cancer, but cancer was cancer I thought. It still filled me with ideas of what the families are left behind to pick up the pieces when a loved one dies from cancer. I felt Dad would’ve been proud to have one cancer story raise money for another cancer cause.

I started out with the sketch of me, my husband and my son standing under the shade of an old oak tree, and my mother sitting at its base, dad is in the shadow facing away. My dad grew up in Florida, and I associate the beaches and oak trees with him as we spent many family outings at parks or beaches growing up. I came up with the idea to use the sea glass again, not only for tree colors of brown and green, and the beach allusion, but as the main metaphor for the broken pieces, or memories, I was left with of my father. Even if they smooth and fade with time, I hope to pass these memories onto my son as he gets older. I also incorporated coquina beach sand, fabric and jewelry pieces with the acrylic paint.

On each glass “leaf” I engraved and painted images and words that make me think of dad and his life with us, the good and bad (i.e. the smoking). He had military service with the US Air Force, which I commemorate on multiple shards. The commemoration is based on a cup he was given in Germany for his unit and so forth. Also on the glass shards are images of his career in construction (the truck he always drove to work), the things he did (taking photos, smoking, golfing, etc.) and messages about dad “Our Rock”, “We Miss You” and yes, “Daddy’s Girl” because that was totally me.

Painting and engraving sea glass with my son in attendance (Age 3).

Behind the Easel: "CBC Butterflies" (2019)

February 19, 2021

Story: CBC Butterflies' from my cancer series illustrates a child's perspective on getting a Complete Blood Count (CBC). I depict how young me imagined butterfly needles when the nurse said, 'they help the blood come out.' The butterflies symbolize my body's transformation as chemo drugs (Calamondin lemons) destroy cancer cells, giving me life (Calamondin blossom). They also draw blood to monitor treatment progress. The Calamondin lemons and flowers (Filipino) and Black Swallowtail butterflies (Florida) reference my mixed heritage, being half Filipino and half Caucasian.

During my treatment, I had to get my blood drawn multiple times for a Complete Blood Count (CBC) to monitor the quantity of my blood cells. I depict how child me would have imagined butterfly needles when her nurse explained that “they help the blood come out.” The butterflies are the transformation my body is undergoing as the chemo drugs (Calamondin lemons) destroy the cancer cells to give me life (Calamondin blossom). They also draw the blood to examine the progress of the treatment within my blood.

Symbols: Butterflies, dress, Calamansi flower and lemons, blood, gloves, leaves, needles, tubing.

Media: Acrylic, watercolor, cardstock, yarn, alcohol inks, vinyl on canvas

Some gathered posts and vids during various stages of progress online:

Adding butterfly papercuts based on my photos of Swallowtail Butterflies I took in central Florida.

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"Into the Cave" (48" X 60") Acrylic with sand, shells, pebbles, ink and tissue on canvas, 2017.

Behind the Easel: "Into the Cave"

February 6, 2018

"Into the Cave," completed it in July 2017, is about rediscovering my roots as an artist by re-imagining my earlier work as cave paintings.

"Into the Cave" was included in Manhattan Art International's 2017 The Healing Power of Art Exhibition. It also won First Place in Tampa Regional Artist's Hellzapoppin' Show in October 2017.

recurring symbols: the mermaid and medusa (two ink drawings and one thumbnail) (2008-2016)

"Mermaid Mother" (Acrylic, tissue, grey canvas and cardboard on yellow canvas) (2016)

detail of Medusa

"9/11 Denial" (Acrylic on brown paper) (2001)

detail of kneeling figures from "9/11 Denial"

"Standing Portrait" (ink wash on butcher paper) (2002)

standing figure from "Standing Portrait" with mermaid merged into her leg

The cave figures throughout this painting are derived from paintings, drawings and sketches I've done while in school and beyond. The mermaid and the medusa make their reappearance in lower part of the cave. They were recently used in my "Mermaid Mother" painting but have been drawn at different stages of my life, using different weapons and sporting different hair. I tried to pull a variety of compositions from my older body to represent my art making history. Some of the works I pulled were from high school, some later. I was still developing my symbolic style as I was fascinated with dreams and interpreting frequent dreams I had back then.

Most people might not know the older works, but I remember them and where I was making each one. Getting back in touch with where I have been has been the driving force to move me forward in my paintings. It's a reminder that yes, I have always been an artist and still am one now.

You can see some of the progress on my Instagram here.

Creating the Cave wall:

The sand on the cave wall is all local Florida beach sand (with lots of shell fragments and other things). Remember applying glitter to glue on paper when you were a kid and shaking the rest off to reveal your glittery design? Well, it's pretty much like that only with sand and I reuse much of the same sand for other works. I paint modge podge onto the canvas, sprinkle handfuls of sand across it while it is wet and gently tilt the canvas this way and that to shake off excess and help coat other areas. I then leave the coating to completely dry for hours while I work on other parts of the painting or eat lunch. Later, I paint the surface with some thinner acrylics to get into all the nooks and crannies of the gritty surface.

Behind the Easel: "Bill Monster"

February 6, 2018

"Bill Monster" illustrates the stress when medical bills from hospital treatments pile up. Sacrifices are made so their child can be healed but the true cost is always lurking, ready to strike. I made some changes from the ink version with my parent's poses and made the medical codes more subtle. I depict my parents as merpeople as I represent myself as such, and felt it appropriate to this piece. The tree to the far right is a Calamondin tree to reference my mother's filipino heritage and to show how medicine that is meant to be good for you can also cause pain. This tree bears small sour citrus and its branches have large thorns. To suggest that the tree is also the bed I am laying in, I incorporated pine needles in both the roots and the bed rails.

"Bill Monster" (30" X 24") Acrylic, sand, sea glass, art paper, pine needles, plastic and rice paper on canvas, 2017.

I hid medical codes for my diagnosis and treatment under the glass as these were some of the codes used to create the bills my parents spent years paying even after treatment was over. Before Hurricane Irma hit in 2017, I collected sea glass and fine beach sand from Puerto Rico. That fine beach sand was coated throughout the piece and on the fins of the monster. I then layered rice paper over the fins with additional sand to give an ethereal earthly depth to them.

Applying sand to “Bill Monster” with gel gloss medium.

Tiny fragments of shell encircle my father's neck to reference his passing in recent times. His shell necklace, from when my parents met, was passed to me not long after his death. My parents both loved the beach when I was a kid but much of that precious time was taken with extended hospital visits.

The Bill Monster's face is comprised of tiny shards of sea glass.

Mom and Dad

Background of fine beach sand.

A wing of tiny shells, sand and rice paper.

Butterfly bed sheets and pine needles in the bed rails

Hidden medical codes under sea glass.

Layers of sand, rice paper and more sand and paint for spines.

Behind the Easel: "I don't like how the red one tastes."

February 6, 2018

"I don't like how the red one tastes" is about my memory of blood transfusions in the hospital. The one clear thought back then was how, whenever the blood bag was connected and flowing into my mediport, I could taste copper at the back of my mouth and how I did not like "how the red one tastes."

"I don't like how the red one tastes." Ink on paper, 2017.

"I don't like how the red one tastes." Acrylic, soft pastels, sand, pine needles, lace, fiber paste, and paper on canvas, 2018. — "I don't like how the red one tastes." Acrylic, soft pastels, sand, pine needles, lace, fiber paste, and paper on canvas, 2018.

The calamondin fruit tree is not only the medicine tree but also the frame of my hospital bed. Calamondin trees reference not only my mother's Filipino heritage (as she was my constant companion in the hospital) but stands in for the multiple times I was pricked by "thorns" (needles) to draw and test my blood during the course of treatment. I removed the ice cream and table seen in the ink study and added the flowers of the tree to show the medicine tree as life-giving as it holds the saline and blood bags. It's amazing how resilient children are undergoing cancer treatment protocols.

I used old family photos from that time period and online ones for my references.

The completed painting includes pine needles embedded into fabric paste for the bark of the tree, butterfly paper and lace for my dress, pearlescent ink for the flowers and droplets and soft pastels for the portrait.

Behind the Easel: "Oak Father"

July 28, 2017

"Oak Father" is dedicated to my father Clifton, who passed last year from Lung Cancer. My fondest memories of my dad are in the town of Safety Harbor, Florida where I grew up as a child. Safety Harbor is home to many giant oaks many of which are hundreds of years old. We also had an Oak Tree that grew on my grandmother's property which later became my parent's. I used 2 different oak trees as references for this painting.

Prior to my father’s passing I had wished I made him a grandfather. I apologized for not doing so multiple times in those final weeks. I always thought the old man would’ve been an ornery funny grandpa someday, but was undecided on children in my life. Not long after he passed, I found out I was pregnant and had been during his last days.

My dad was supportive of my art making, hanging my paintings in his office at work and coming to every show. Along the branches are mementos and reminders of my father’s presence and influence in my life: framed and unframed art and a single Polaroid camera dangles close by the family.

The oak tree in this painting is my father looking over me and my son on the swing; his face on the tree is the only one with eyes open. The other closed-eyed faces are the family members of the past, who made my father who he was, and he me.