My mosaics are tangible, touchable portals that connect our inner + outer landscapes.

As much as my mosaics are literally set in stone, they are anything but fixed: they are invitations to wander the pleasuregrounds between the elegant and the earthy, the mystical and mundane, the sacred and profane, to dance with brokenness and re/member beauty.

Light and shadow play with their surfaces as you move, and as the light moves. These mosaics are shape-shifters.

Each piece is human hand-and-heart-made by me, utterly unique and imbued with the currents of grounded flow. Art that moves with you. Art that moves you.

>> CLICK ON IMAGES to view details + message for each mosaic <<

Mosaic Art

Different types of creativity are different conduits for our energy.

I first learned how to make mosaics nearly 20 years ago, from a Hungarian man who emphasized the craftsmanship and gravitas—the literal gravity—of the medium. Mosaics are a slow, painstaking medium. There is nothing quick, easy, or inexpensive about them, and yet I love being able to honor my vision with time, intention, and tangible form.

It’s only recently that I’ve begun to untangle just what it is that draws me to mosaic-making. Sometimes, I think I’m totally nuts: I literally spend hundreds of hours cutting tiles into tiny pieces and gluing them down onto a board. A large mosaic takes me over 100 hours of utter focus to complete. There are nine million other things I could be doing.

But what I’ve learned is that making art is one of my meditations, my devotions.

As I break tiles and lay them, my mind has time to unspool. My thoughts wander, coalesce, and converge in flashes of insight. I find myself in a grounded flow.

For me, there’s something resonant about smashing something to pieces and rearranging them in a way that creates something beautiful. 

It’s an opportunity to create beauty out of brokenness: re/membering myself and my world.

And mosaics are heavy—they have gravity. I use stained glass and stone and vitreous glass and ceramic and shells and crystals, then mix grout to tie them all together. Mosaics are grounding in the most literal way. They are of the earth.

What’s even more fascinating is that I find that the piece I’m working on teaches me as I go.

When I try to force a tile piece, I often realize I'm trying to force pieces in other parts of my life. Then there are times when I find the perfect piece—a shape that fits a tiny, irregular spot so perfectly that it can’t possibly be coincidence. My genies are prodding me along—I am co-creating this with the universe. It is creating me as I’m creating it. It compels me to make it, to bring it into being—there’s no other way to describe it. 

I know this thing wants to be born, and I want to be the one to birth it.

After I lay the tiles and the design is finished, it’s time to let go.

For me, this is the most excruciating part. I’ve spent 100+ hours making this beautiful piece in front of me… and then I slather it all with grout. I don’t know how or if it will reemerge, or if I’ve just destroyed it.

As the grout dries, I start excavating the mosaic; I wipe off the grout, layer by layer. Colors and design re-emerge. Now, the grout, this primordial ooze, has filled in all of the cracks—all of those broken pieces emerge as a unified being.

As it dries, I wipe off the haze and polish the pieces, returning them to their vibrancy. I can see the whole, and I breathe, finally, in relief.

These works are my labor, and my love, my metaphysical offspring.

My creative acts of self-empowerment and expression, a way to share my energy. A way for me to say,

I made this; it’s for you. I’M FOR YOU.

I take a limited number of commissions. Please contact me for details.