Finally, I Can Share: My Work at the Theodore Roosevelt Presidential Library
Happy Spring -
With the season of new beginnings, I’ve been holding onto something for a while, and I’m so honored to finally share with you what’s been quietly blooming in the studio.
This July 4th, during the grand opening of the Theodore Roosevelt Presidential Library in Medora, one of my signature large-scale abstract paintings will be unveiled as part of the library’s permanent collection.
To be included in a space of this significance — especially one rooted so deeply in North Dakota — is an incredible honor. I am one of only a few North Dakota artists selected, and to have my work live within this facility is something I don’t take lightly. The library is one of the most anticipated cultural institutions currently under construction — not just regionally, but globally. To be part of its story, opening during our nation’s 250th anniversary of independence, feels both humbling and deeply meaningful.
Over the past few years, I’ve had the privilege of visiting the site many times, watching it rise from vision to reality. Most recently, I was there with fellow NDSU SODAA Advisory Board members. The photos shared here are from that visit — captured from many different perspectives by architects, landscape architects, interior designers, and artists — which made it even more special. Until now, I had to keep these visits quiet, so I’m especially excited to finally share this moment with you.
Members of the NDSU SODAA Advisory Board—including architects, landscape architects, artists, and interior designers.
It’s also been incredible to see how many roles NDSU alumni have played in bringing this library to life. It makes the entire project feel even more personal and connected to our community. I’ve never been more proud to be both a Bison and a North Dakotan.
Last summer, I also had the honor of meeting Craig Dykes, the lead Design Landscape Architect and Architect — a moment I shared in my July 2025 newsletter. It was incredibly inspiring, as I have long admired his work. To not only be part of this space, but also to have his support and to be one of only a few North Dakota artists included in it, feels especially meaningful and full circle.
Pictured with Craig Dykers (center), the lead design architect and landscape architect for the Library, along with fellow NDSU alumni friends.
Throughout this process, I’ve spent time diving deeper into the life of Theodore Roosevelt — his time in North Dakota and what brought him here. I even had the opportunity to take a private tour and hike with a historian out to the Elkhorn Ranch Unit in the Badlands, where Roosevelt once called home. Understanding his story — his loss, his resilience, and how this landscape became a place of healing — this added layer of meaning to this final work has deeply influenced not only this painting, but me as an artist.
This work is a large-scale abstract expression piece — a diptych measuring 10 x 9 feet, composed of two 5’ x 9’ canvases. It is my interpretation of Roosevelt’s connection to Medora and the Badlands, but also something more personal — a reflection of shared human experience.
Standing where
it will soon live
—envisioning the movement, energy, and story that will fill this wall behind me here at the Theodore Roosevelt Presidential Library.
My hope is that what I’ve absorbed — the land, the history, and the emotion — lives within the movement, texture, and marks of the work. That it extends beyond the canvas and creates a space for you to feel something of your own — to pause, reflect, and perhaps even see yourself within it.
This process has not come without its challenges — there have been moments of doubt, pressure, and a lot of sweat and tears. But as I’m often reminded, that is part of the process. It’s all part of the story.
One quote by Theodore Roosevelt has stayed with me throughout:
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood...
I come back to this often — reminding myself to stay present, to trust the process, and to recognize that this moment is part of something bigger. A chapter in a story I hope to one day share with my children, and maybe even my grandchildren.
The thought that one day they might stand in that space and see this work — that it will live on beyond me — is something I can’t quite put into words yet.
It still doesn’t quite feel real. In many ways, it feels like I’m living in a dream.
Thank you for being here — for witnessing this milestone, for supporting my work, and for being part of this journey in ways that make moments like this possible.
With love and gratitude.
xo
Opening July 2026.