What’s something most people don’t know about you?

There’s a river inside me, always moving, always flowing. Some people know of it—of my creativity—but few understand how deep it runs or how far it carries me. It’s not deception, not even close. It’s expression, pure and essential, the way I make sense of the world and navigate the currents of life. I wear my creativity like a second skin, sometimes quietly, other times boldly. Whether I write, paint, sketch, or dabble in a new form of art, it’s always my way of speaking truths that words alone cannot hold.

Writing is my compass, guiding me through emotions, experiences, and dreams. But I don’t just write the truth—I craft stories that blur the lines, diving into creative non-fiction where facts and imagination dance together. I find that truth itself is sometimes too rigid, and life too complex to fit neatly within its confines. So, I let my mind wander. I weave hopes and desires into my words, reimagining what life could be. It’s not that I lie or pretend—rather, I reshape the pieces of life to reflect the deeper truths that can’t be spoken plainly.

Painting and other forms of art are like different languages I use to express what I can’t capture in writing. A brushstroke, a splash of color, the rough texture of a canvas—each one tells a story only I can feel, but others may glimpse in passing. These visual creations are an extension of the same river of creativity, winding through different landscapes, shifting and shaping me as I go.

My creativity isn’t just about making things; it’s about surviving, thriving, and finding peace in life’s struggles. When life becomes too heavy, too complicated, I dip into the river. God gave me this gift, and I know it is not mine alone. I’m thankful for the professors who sharpened my knowledge and encouraged me to explore every artistic corner of myself. They opened my eyes to the many ways creativity can act as both a mirror and a refuge.

What people see in me is only part of the picture. Some notice my writing; some have seen a glimpse of my artwork. But there is always more beneath the surface, more flowing within me that they may never fully grasp. And that’s okay. Creativity, for me, is deeply personal—not a performance, but a necessity. It’s how I make sense of joy and sorrow, how I dream and cope.

Like a river running quietly under a bridge, my creativity moves through me constantly, always present, always alive. I am grateful for every twist, every turn, every outlet through which it flows. It allows me to shape my world in ways that words, paint, or any medium alone never could. It is not just a talent or a skill; it is my lifeline, my prayer, my way of living with gratitude for all the beauty and chaos that life brings.