March 4, 2019

Beyond the excitement of opportunity to fill an entire room with my art, and my art alone; the art show was genuinely about love. The day began waking up with a bustle of butterflies in my stomach, but my nerves were halted and replaced with love as I was surprised wit...

January 23, 2019

A painting begins with a surface. Whether it be a jacket, purse, someone’s face or a canvas; the quality and originality is part of my detail oriented process ensuring that I am creating something unique. Canvases are my most commonly used surface, and can be a bit of...

January 16, 2019

The Flow: a euphoric rush of good energy that keeps you inspired, motivated, working fast and diligently. You can’t put down the paintbrush, you can’t lift your eyes from a word document, you’re creating colors and designs that you didn’t even know your brain could pro...

January 8, 2019

Playlist for every mood, that’s how I roll. Songs that make you cry, make you dance, make you scream, make you beam, your guilty pleasures. 

I remember distinctly. The feeling; the warm, cake batter feeling of someone handing you a mixed CD. You’d take hold of the thin,...

July 20, 2018

Holy Guacamole. 

A summer of adulting, and yet the stress has forced me into corners of cowering like a kid. Unlike a circus seal balancing a brightly striped ball on his nose, I have less than gracefully attempted to work four different jobs this summer, train for a ma...

March 30, 2018

The canvas and the pool stand similarly, and I approach them interchangeably. My heart rate begins to race, my brain is in overdrive, my palms sweaty. I’m intimidated, the white of the canvas, infinite in its possibilities, and my fear that when I paint it, it won’t re...

October 4, 2017

“Every love story is a tragedy if you wait long enough” - The Handmaid’s Tale

The Heartbreak Diaries

July 18

“You’re so strong”

But I didn’t feel that way, I didn’t feel strong at all.

It was just something they said because I didn’t cry about it.

What a state of being, stir...

July 13, 2017

Weeks of coming home inspired, but perspiring. Heavy days dragged me into the house and fastened me to my bed. Every night canvases and my paintbrushes called to me from the periphery.

Okay. Okay.

Putting pencil to paper feels uncomfortable and unnatural. My sketches are...

May 21, 2017

I began this project in February, post election, post inauguration, at the height of social collision. Chicago housed Women’s and science marches, not my president rallies, and the UIC campus stank sour of fear, mourning the reality of shift in American culture; people...

March 15, 2017

“Just be a lady.”

It’s a classic phrase but I feel it like a punch to the gut.

We women are all too familiar with the demands behind the unassuming words.

Sit still with your legs crossed. Talk softly and use your manners. Apologize for asking questions, for interrupting,...

February 8, 2017

The palette, heavy from years, (no exaggeration, I mean years) of used and unused paint, was unsteady in my hand. The palette was unsteady because my hand was unsteady. And my hand was unsteady because although I was concentrating on the dampened canvas in front of me;...

January 31, 2017

Let me introduce myself:

My name is Brie.

B-R-I-E. Like the cheese.

My name is not Brie because of my love for cheese, and likewise my love for cheese is not because my name is Brie. Those things are entirely coincidental. 

I decided to start blogging because I like to cre...

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