I'm an author, artist, and creator who makes things from the middle of a real life. Not a perfect one. A real one. I write fiction that lingers. I make art with meaning. I believe the things that nearly break us are the same things that make us. It's how we grow.
Faith keeps me grounded. Family keeps me laughing. Stories keep me entertained.
I used to color in the blank covers of coloring books. Not the printed pages — those were someone else's marks. I wanted to make my own mark. I still do.
That pretty much tells you everything you need to know about me.
My name is Sherrina. I'm a daughter, sister, wife, mother and Nana. A writer, an artist, a recovered corporate burnout, and someone who has had to learn the hard way, more than once, that beauty is not something you find. It's something you fight for.
I spent years doing the right things. Filing taxes for others. Healthcare compliance. Teaching adults in a vocational school. Work that paid the bills while I was slowly dying inside. I knew I was made for something else. I let fear hold me back. Finally, I stopped fighting it and quit. I took a risk. It hasn't always paid off, but I still get to build my own dreams, not someone else's.
But I am an overthinker. I second-guess everything. A perfectionist who has stopped and started several times.
Then my dad got a cancer diagnosis. And I suddenly remembered I had always wanted to write a book.
Solace came from that moment — from wanting to give him a place where healing is real and hope is not something you have to earn. He is in remission now. But the worlds I am building, I think I will be building them for a long time.
The art came first, actually. I have always made things. Paintings. Ballpoint pen drawings. Mixed media pieces held together with texture and color and whatever I was carrying that day. Some pieces are heavy — a heart wrapped in stone, a girl smiling in a mask while she cries behind it. Some are a gnome with a beard made of faux leaves, because joy is also real and it deserves to take up space.
I serve in a recovery ministry because I know what it is to need one. There is hope in those rooms. Real hope. Not the kind printed on a coffee mug.
I have a plethora of stories waiting to come out. Books and art and products that don't fit neatly into one category, because I have never been one thing and I am done pretending I should be.
Faith is the thread through everything I do. I don't wear it like a label. But it is the reason I believe a broken world full of broken people is still worth making beautiful things for.
If you are here because you need something beautiful, or because you also refuse to color inside someone else's lines — you are in the right place.