The Origin of Maker Pretty Weird

I grew up in the woods of New Hampshire—making potions, filling sketchbooks, and turning every challenge into an opportunity.

I’ve always been a maker, a tinkerer, and a teller of strange stories.

In my twenties, I studied Interdisciplinary Art at Chester College of New England, wandered Greece and Italy as a student of The Aegean Center of Fine Art, and earned a Master’s in The Art of Teaching, at Plymouth State University.

My plan?

To be an art teacher and help bridge the gap between art and life for my students—but many struggles with chronic illness and parenting two glorious gremlins of my own had other plans.

Art remains my comfort, my rebellion, my therapy, my joy. My laughter-through-tears. My way to explore the odd beauty of being alive and in pain, in love, in motion.

“Maker Pretty Weird” grew out of that space: a desire to share my strange creations with the world, to connect with curious hearts, and to ask better questions—like what if sadness had tentacles? or how many eyes should a cloud have if it's apologizing?

Now, I live in the Pacific Northwest, in Everett, Washington.

I am constantly inspired by my creative and silly children, all my wild animal friends, the beautiful forests here and the closeness to estuaries and the like. This is a magical place.

My art is for the neurodiverse, the overthinkers, the feel-too-muchers. For anyone craving connection, color, and a little chaos. I want my work to start conversations, spark delight, make you smirk or pause or cackle.

And, yes—I’d love for it to help support me and my chosen family, too.

So please: Be silly with me. Be weird with me.