This journey began when I was a 19-year-old art student, juggling small jobs and babysitting for a family friend to make ends meet. Each night, after putting her son to bed, I noticed something curious—she never left the house! Instead, she would disappear into the basement for hours. My curiosity got the best of me.  I still remember the sight: her silhouette illuminated by the flicker of a flame, working intently with tools I didn't recognize.  Moved by my curiosity, she invited me to sit with her. She introduced me to a new drawing technique—one that would stay with me forever.  She explained that this skill is typically passed down from mother to daughter in Slavic cultures. It was harder than she made it look, but she assured me that what mattered more was doing it, practicing, and passing it on. I knew immediately the batik-process of drawing on eggs would be something I'd dedicate my life's work to. 

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        In between writing papers and painting still lifes, I'd always make time to work on eggs. In many dorm rooms and apartments, friends and roommates would gather in the spring to learn.  Years later, with encouragement, I decided to teach a workshop to the public and it sold out in minutes. I'd come to learn that during the World Wars, families made their way to the United States, sometimes leaving their loved ones and traditions behind. The next generation was eager for an opportunity to reconnect with their heritage. I had no idea until I started teaching how privileged I was to have been taught such a desired art process as an outsider. 

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     March is a highly anticipated month when I travel up and down the East Coast to intimate spaces, museums, galleries and libraries to pass on this meditative art form. I've had the pleasure of teaching and empowering thousands of people through the years (especially for those who arrive in beautiful embroidered heirlooms!). These  carefully hosted and facilitated workshops encourage meaningful conversation around family history and this ancient art.  All participants continue to leave these communal workshops and demonstrations with a deeper understanding of the history, the culture, the art, and themselves. 

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     Pysanky is traditionally associated with spring; a season when ancient peoples celebrated and honored the sun and life force through mystical and magical rites. This may be the oldest surviving art form still true to its original process left on Earth. Pysanky remain sacred objects and benevolent talismans—true weapons of peace—that unite people in the shared pursuit of beauty, hope, and shared humanity. It was through teaching pysanky that I became the art coach I am today. It is a high honor to share my love for this art across the country, carrying a timeless message of hope and a vision of peace on earth.