I paint the Aurora Borealis in memory of my infant daughter, Aurora Annette, who died three days after she and twin turned two months old on September 24, 2020. Painting has been and continues to be an outlet for my grief and heartbreak. To honor her memory, I paint the Northern Lights on black paper, which symbolizes the darkness of grief that envelops me. The bright colors and vivid hues in my paintings radiate the same intense energy and emotion that I experience in daily struggles with my mental health, in trying to navigate this journey of grief. I?ve always found peace and solace in my artistic practice. It is my art that got me through some of the most challenging times in my life: being diagnosed with Stage 3 endometriosis, undergoing two surgeries in 10 months, (then, 3 months later,) enduring an emotionally and physically trying cycle of In-Vitro Fertilization, experiencing a high-risk, complicated pregnancy, having emergency c-section 33 weeks early after delivering twin girls, bringing home my babies after being in the NICU for a month, then waking up on the morning that Aurora Annette didn?t. Painting is one of the few constants that I can lean on when everything else feels chaotic and out of control, which is what my life is without Aurora. Although my time with her was brief, she brought so much light and color to my life, just as the Aurora Borealis illuminates the night sky with its luminous colors. Each Aurora painting is a message to my daughter, painted with iridescent and holographic colors. I use handmade, small batch, color shifting watercolors in my artwork. When the painting is viewed from different angles, the colors change and shift subtly in the light. Aurora Annette continues to be my inspiration for my art, and I keep her memory alive with every Aurora that I paint.