I have always struggled with my words—to process my thoughts and articulate them into verbal expression. Through this struggle, there has been “something” that persisted to help me maintain my sanity.


Though never truly understanding how it did this, or why I was so drawn to the mystery of its influence, I have always recognized the presence of art in my life. In the way that a devoted friend might, art has comforted me from pain, distracted me from confusion, been a valuable tool for processing what I didn’t have words for, and a way for understanding myself.


Through paint, pencil, pen, movement, design, sidewalk chalk, cooking…
I’ve learned that art
(even as the mystery it will always be to me)
is a medium for connection.
A connection to what?
A connection to strangers, to the people that I love, to myself, and to my creator. When I’m at a loss for words, art can free me from the loneliness of misunderstanding.


We are all in a constant cycle of trial and error—this is life. I am continually reminded to have grace and that working with mistakes isn’t unique to creativity. Rather, creativity is a unique way to remember that the errors in me are pieces of my beauty. When I embrace art, I embrace grace, vulnerability and an acceptance for life.

So why not embrace art?

Perhaps it leaves me exposed to the possibilities of being seen, heard and known by the world. Perhaps it opens up a way for me to see, hear and know the world.
If it is in my power to choose life, I don’t choose a monochromatic life- I want to live a life made up of the contrasting colors of joy and sorrow. I’d rather welcome the intricacies woven together of connection and loss, than to be that single thread, safe from being affected by others.
Fear suggests to us that we protect ourselves from risk. Personally, I’ve found that fear is merely concealing me from freedom and beauty.

So, here I am, with this experiment of mine.


Stripping off a layer of the fear that hinders me, I now share with you:


[ink • yu • iti]
An art studio.


1. a colored fluid used for writing, drawing, printing, or duplicating.
"the names are written in ink"


[a • cu • i • ty]
sharpness or keenness of thought, vision, or hearing.
"intellectual acuity"