In these acrylic, abstracted, impressionist paintings, I am covering my cystic, bruised and scared skin with that of another living thing, often with its own parade of interlopers on its flesh. With all their simple imperfections, these trees helped me turn my past work into something more realized. A layer of human shame hidden beneath yet providing so much to nature and its unabashed pride. The tarnished flesh becomes the beauty of the bark, the landscape, the light. The Viewer doesn’t necessarily need to know my journey, or about the under-paintings of red and pink splotches with built up bumps, to appreciate the recognizable painting that lives on the surface- but that is where they come from. Creating these tree-scapes was my excursion of power to look back at a time when I was deeply unhappy in my skin and morph it into the new life I also created. To confront and accept the girl who painted the old work and invite her to have a say in my current, happier life. A life filled with countless precious moments spent outside, breathing in the woods with my daughter. To let go of the despair and self-obsession imbedded previously and insist upon tranquility and hope, feelings that are immensely important to a new parent.