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, a supportive arts director encouraged me to design a pysanky workshop for her center—and the response was immediate and overwhelming. As I continued to teach, I began hearing stories: families who fled during the World Wars, sometimes leaving loved ones, traditions, and family heirlooms behind. The next generation was eager 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 honor of teaching and empowering thousands of people through the years—especially those who arrive in beautifully embroidered heirlooms! These thoughtfully facilitated workshops create space for meaningful conversations around family history, cultural resilience, and the preservation of tradition.  They leave not only with a precious heirloom in their hands, but with a deeper understanding of the history, the culture, the art—and themselves. 

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    This may be the oldest surviving art form on Earth still practiced true to its original process.  Pysanky is traditionally associated with spring; a season when ancient peoples celebrated and honored the sun and life force through mystical and magical rites.  These eggs 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’s a high honor to share my love for this art across the country, carrying with it a timeless message of hope and a vision for peace on Earth.