About Kristin

I’m an artist, art educator, and lifelong creative explorer.

My creative journey has taken many forms—from painting and drawing to set design, photography, teaching, and experimenting with materials that might not traditionally be considered “art.” I’m drawn to the process of creating as much as the finished piece. I love trying something new, making a mess, changing direction, and discovering beauty in unexpected places.

Nature, everyday moments, and the world around me are constant sources of inspiration. I often find myself looking at ordinary objects, textures, colors, and discarded materials and wondering, What could this become? Repurposing and upcycling materials has become an important part of my practice, allowing me to give new life to things that might otherwise be overlooked.

My love of creativity extends beyond my own studio. I am an art educator at Valley View Community School in Farmington, New Hampshire, where I encourage young artists to experiment, play, take creative risks, and develop their own artistic voices. I believe art is not just about making something beautiful—it is about curiosity, discovery, self-expression, and seeing the world in new ways.

Outside of my studio and classroom, I stay connected to the arts through my work with Garrison Players Arts Center and through years of coaching figure skating. Whether I’m painting, teaching, designing, moving, or simply exploring an idea, I’m happiest when I’m creating and helping others discover their own creativity.

Thank you for visiting my little corner of the creative world. I hope you find something here that makes you pause, wonder, smile, or see something in a new way.

My Creative Journey

I began taking painting lessons with Pat Francour in Somersworth, New Hampshire, when I was in fifth grade. I had gone through a challenging experience as a child and was struggling with my self-confidence. A doctor recommended that I try art lessons.

That recommendation changed my life.

Pat started me with pastels and eventually introduced me to oil painting. Every Monday, I would go to her little studio above her garage, where I worked alongside about three other artists of different ages. We each had our own projects, and Pat would walk around the studio, helping us work through whatever we were creating.

She was patient, encouraging, and genuinely interested in us. She always wanted to hear about our day and our stories. I remember coming home from those Monday lessons with my artwork in my hands and feeling so proud of what I had accomplished.

Looking back, I realize that Pat gave me much more than art lessons. She gave me a place where I could create, succeed, and believe in myself.

I continued taking lessons through eighth grade, but when I entered high school, it became difficult to balance art with volleyball, softball, skating, and schoolwork. I still knew that art was important to me. I took every art class I could in high school and dreamed of going to college to become an artist.

My dad had other ideas. He encouraged me to choose a degree that would allow me to find a job and make a living. I understood his concern, but I also knew how much I loved being a junior coach at the skating rink. I loved working with kids, encouraging them, and watching them discover what they could do.

So I thought, why not teach art?

And that decision brought together two things I had loved since childhood: creating art and helping others believe in themselves.

I began my career as an art educator and eventually stepped away from the art room to take on administrative roles. I served as an assistant principal and later as a principal, experiences that challenged me to grow as a leader and gave me a different perspective on education. But I eventually realized how much I missed creating, teaching, and being with students in the art room. When the opportunity came to return to teaching art, I knew I had found my way back to where I belonged.

Today, I am an artist and art educator, and I often think about those Monday afternoons in Pat’s little studio. I hope that when my students leave my classroom, they carry with them some of what I carried home from Pat’s studio all those years ago—not just something they made, but the feeling of “I did this. I can do this.”