When we create art without our ego interfering, we are actually developing a connection to our truest self. 

Not the self that performs or achieves, but the one that notices, wonders, and responds to what's alive in the moment.

I've been a long-time observer of my environment and nature. I love to sit with what I'm seeing, to delve into the curiosity of learning more—the medicinal purpose of a flower or herb, how animals coexist or adapt to the species and circumstances around them, and to notice the complex patterns nature creates. 

I'm endlessly fascinated by what we can learn from the lessons of nature: resilience, adaptation, beauty in imperfection, the wisdom of cycles and seasons.

I've loved making art my whole life. Drawing and lettering were the only two things I received accolades for throughout my education, and they've stayed with me as a way of being present. 

Anytime I'm in a meeting or listening to a lecture, you'll find me doodling—not because I'm distracted, but because it helps me listen deeper. It works for me. The act of moving a pen across paper quiets the noise and lets me hear what matters.

After working as a corporate trainer and consultant, coach, and author for years, I am now adding the intentional practice of art to my work and to my own pastime.

I believe art has the power to teach, to help us be more mindful and to just relax and enjoy.

What I know for certain is: art doesn't require great amounts of training and talent. It is available to all of us. 

The only things you need are curiosity, the willingness to let go of self-judgment or comparison, and the ability to be still and observe.

My work—whether it's nature journaling, creating custom word cards, or leading workshops—grows from this belief: that art isn't just about making something beautiful. It's about practicing presence, cultivating curiosity, and finding our way back to ourselves. 

When we create from that place, we open up. We connect more deeply to what we see, what we feel, and ultimately, to each other. 

— Beth