05/10/2026
I began this work shortly after we lost our home in LA to the Eaton Fires in 2025. We visited the property about 50 days after the fires swept through California, rendering our home nothing more than ashes and melted pieces of glass and metal. As I walked the property, I was blown away by the shocking green of the grasses that had grown all around the ashes — vibrant wildflowers, milkweed, buttercups, and yarrow. The home where we had planned to raise our family was overtaken by the most incredible display of wildflowers I had ever seen.
Nature doesn’t really ask “am I doing this right?” — a question I ask myself so frequently, especially in regards to motherhood. It just confidently goes about its business, growing as it should after a wildfire — redwoods and oaks standing tall as ever, grown to withstand wildfires. So when I think about why I made this work, the word that comes to mind is: Hope. Through tragedy and loss, nature keeps barreling forward, and I found myself returning to this concept over and over for solace. Like everything I make, these paintings came through me. I suppose like channeling, but more so like a pipeline from the ashes to the canvas.
I learned recently that Buddhists believe it takes 50 days after death for a soul to choose a new life. Our home, filled with unrealized memories of our children’s lives — forts they never built, Sunday suppers we never hosted, vegetables we never grew — but over a century of memories created by others. Our home chose to become wildflowers.