Rebuilding Through Art

When the world fell apart after Helene, the first person to show up was Ty Harvin of Whatcha Need Handyman Services in Asheville, NC. He was there before the shock had even worn off, helping us find footing when everything familiar felt broken. Then Hope Burk of Allen Tate Real Estate pulled out all the stops—finding people we could trust to repair the damage, and later helping us sell our home so we could finally start over.

Those early acts of kindness were more than just practical help; they were proof that compassion still existed when survival felt impossible.

A few months later, I received the WNC Emergency Relief Grant from the Craft Futures Fund through the Center for Craft, which allowed me to replace two essential studio tools. One of them was the Purair Air Purifier by Resiners. When the company learned about my situation, they quietly added several items to my order—including an AirLess Pro Resin Bubble Remover Machine to replace and upgrade from a similar version I’d lost in the flood. It wasn’t something they had to do. It was an act of grace, one that multiplied my ability to rebuild and strengthened my sense of purpose in ways that words can barely touch.

Then the UNCA Alumni Association, my alma mater, reached out and included my work in their holiday guide. They shared my art and story on their social media channels, amplifying what I could not do alone. That visibility helped my business survive the months when everything still felt like triage.

There are far more people and organizations who helped me than I can name. Every person who bought a piece, who shared my story, who donated to the programs that helped artists like me—they all became part of the current that kept my work, and my spirit, afloat. Their generosity gave me what so many others didn’t get after Helene: a lifeboat.

Because then, my father passed away.

He was the person who had inspired our westward trip—the same journey that kept us out of Asheville and, ultimately, alive when the hurricane hit. Losing him during the December holidays, in the same home that had become both refuge and reminder, was almost too much to carry. I stepped away for a while, unsure whether I could, or even wanted to, continue.

What followed wasn’t a clean recovery—it was a slow reckoning. My art began to shift, and so did I. Somewhere in the quiet, I recognized that what I’d been given wasn’t just survival—it was an invitation. The universe had cleared the slate, and I had a choice about how to begin again.

Rebuilding became less about replacing what was lost and more about becoming aligned with who I am now. It meant asking harder questions: What kind of artist do I want to be? What kind of life do I want my work to sustain? What can I build that lasts beyond me?

4 Mulvaney St. Studios, flooded during Hurricane Helene

That kind of clarity is a privilege, one I don’t take lightly. Because so much of an artist’s life is solitary. We wrestle privately with our own doubts, only to stand exposed when we share what we make. It’s easy to forget that there are people out there—neighbors, friends, strangers—who care deeply about helping us keep going.

The reality is sobering: Hurricane Helene became the deadliest hurricane in recorded U.S. history. According to FEMA, 40–60% of small businesses permanently close after a natural disaster of this scale. I am not one of them, because I wasn’t alone.

You all saved me.

You gave me space and grace, and with it, the rarest gift of all—a chance to choose what happens next. For that, I am endlessly grateful.

Foreshadowing,’ a conceptual portrait exploring disappearance, transition, and quiet transformation.

Rebuilding isn’t about getting back to normal. It’s about finding new ways to stay connected—to myself, to the work, and to the people who never stopped showing up. It’s about moving through loss and landing somewhere truer. It’s about finding alignment between life and practice, between what I make and who I am.

It’s about remembering that for me, and maybe for many of us, Art is Autobiography.

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