
ABOUT THE PROJECT
I was commissioned to create two original artworks for Rutland Community Clinic as part of their call for local artists with a connection to the community. The clinic’s goal was to create a space where people could see themselves reflected, by using art to support inclusivity, care, and a sense of belonging.
As a long-time Rutland resident, this project felt especially meaningful. The work draws from everyday Rutland life and the people who give the neighborhood its heart and character. These pieces were created to feel familiar and welcoming, offering warmth, connection, and a quiet reminder that this clinic, and this community—was built to care for the people who walk through its doors.

Wooden wall of a fractured brain to symbolize the complexities of mental health.

Artist (myself) posing with the art piece in front of one of my favorite murals in the Rutland area. The mural is called Ogopogo + Friends by Mono Sourcil

Closer image of the piece of "Erosion Of Self"

Wooden wall of a fractured brain to symbolize the complexities of mental health.
Erosion of Self
Mental health is a topic that hits close to home for me, given my experiences growing up surrounded by people living with mental illness. From witnessing the chaotic outbursts of schizophrenia to the bizarre, almost humorous reality of dementia—like finding random bites taken out of slices of bread around the house—I've seen firsthand how complex and difficult brain health can be. Unlike a broken arm or a cough that people can see and understand, mental health issues often go unnoticed, and the toll they take is invisible.
What’s often left unsaid is how debilitating it can be—there are days when getting out of bed feels like an impossible task. Anxiety, depression, voices in your head, and thoughts of self-harm—they all paint a picture of how mental illness can feel like living in a maze with no way out.
When I started working on this piece, I initially considered making the usual “healthy brain vs. unhealthy brain” contrast, but that felt overdone and honestly kind of reductive. With all the chaos in the world, it’s hard to imagine anyone’s brain not being a little cracked or worn down. We’re all carrying stress, uncertainty, and anxiety—we’ve got our own mental fractures.
So, I chose to show a brain that’s a bit of both: one side shattered, the other with holes and gaps. It’s a representation of how mental health doesn’t fit into a neat “healthy vs. unhealthy” box.
Erosion of Self
Concept Art
For this piece, I shared two possible variations with the clinic.
One uses dark and light wood stains, while the other explores a more vibrant, multi-coloured approach.
Both versions are made from layered wood to create a subtle 3D effect. The painted concept leans into colour to reflect the complexity of the brain, while the final piece focuses more on texture, depth, and the natural feel of the material.


Orbital Birth
Orbital Birth: Digital drawing, fusing anatomy and astronomy. Reimagining the pelvis as a perfectly balanced mobile, because let’s be real—holding things together is what it does best.
Not just as a vessel for birth, but as a force of creation, resilience, and cosmic influence. It challenges the idea that strength must be rigid, instead celebrating the delicate balance between fragility and power, body and universe.
Orbital Birth is a tribute to the unseen forces. Gravitational, generational, and revolutionary—that shape both worlds and women alike.
A quiet reminder that true power isn’t just about creation—it’s about choice.

Digital Illustration of a skeleton pelvis with the planets strung along it like a mobile.

Artist holding orbital Birth framed art piece.

Digital Illustration of a skeleton pelvis with the planets strung along it like a mobile.
Why Rutland Feels Like Home
2025 Community Art Call Connection Statement:
I’ve been a proud Rutland (aka "Little Trail") resident since I first landed in Kelowna. Some people call it the “rough” part of town, and sure, it's not as polished as the cultural district. Some call it the "dangerous" part of town, but they're mistaking firecrackers for gunfire (probably). But they're being dramatic - Rutland’s the part of town with "heart", in my opinion. Or maybe "character", and it does have some real characters—like the enthusiastic preacher lady, always hollering a hymn, or the guy on the corner who looks like he's had a rough go—but hey, that’s city life. It wouldn’t be complete without a few colorful characters. And yes, I'm probably one of them - I run through Ben Lee daily and sometimes I throw my cats in a backpack, which creates some sort of silly small talk with locals. It’s a strange sight to see a woman walking around dual-wielding cat backpacks. But in Rutland, I feel like I fit right in.
I even convinced my partner, who hailed from the Mission, to make the move to Rutland. He’s now fully converted, proudly calling this place “home.” But really, the best part of Rutland is its people—they look out for each other, in their own quirky, unpredictable way.
