I’m not going to reduce everything to your relationship with your mother or stare at you blankly and ask, “And how does that make you feel?” I want to know what you care about, what pisses you off, what you keep avoiding, what makes you laugh, and what you’re afraid to admit even to yourself.

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I work especially well with people who don’t fit neatly into boxes: artists, neurodivergent and disabled people, men figuring out how to put words to what they feel, and anyone wondering whether the life they’re supposed to want is actually the life they want. You’re complicated. You’re funny. You’re angry. Maybe you have big ideas you can’t seem to get out of your head and into the world.

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Therapy with me is a relationship. I’m not an empty vessel. I’ll have reactions, ask questions, laugh with you, and challenge you when I think you’re ready.

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Sometimes we’ll talk, sometimes we’ll make something, and sometimes we’ll do both. You don’t need to be an artist, and making art is always optional. You can disagree with me. You can be angry with me. We can repair things and keep going.

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I grew up in the mountains of New Mexico, often feeling too American for one world and too Mexican for another. I love sports and skateboarding as much as art and poetry. I became an artist and, eventually, an art therapist. I’m still not particularly interested in fitting neatly into one box, and I’m not going to ask you to either.