The Story Behind Deer Woman

Growing up, I spent my summers in Montana with my grandma, a lover of horror movies, local myths, and anything a little unsettling. From a young age, we read Stephen King together, watched movies like It, and dove into the area's stories and legends.

One of those stories was Deer Woman, a figure rooted in Native mythology, often described as a beautiful but dangerous spirit who takes vengeance on those who harm women, children, and the vulnerable.

That story stuck with me.

In my world, the idea of something watching over the vulnerable and striking back when harm is done... didn’t feel like a monster. It felt like protection. Like justice. Like an ally in the woods.

It shaped the way I think about duality:

How something can be both beautiful and terrifying.

How a villain can also be a savior.

And how, depending on the story, any of us can be cast as the villain.

The "Ugly Phase." My work requires a lot of trust in the process. Yikes.

Fast forward to the summer of 2024: my first year really putting my work out into the world.

I started painting more seriously, sharing my work online, and eventually entering local exhibitions just to see what might happen.

Around that same time, I was reading The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones, and it brought back echoes of those Montana summers. Quiet, eerie, and deeply rooted in story.

That’s when I painted the first version of Deer Woman.

It was a small 9×12 piece, and honestly, I hated it.

Not because the idea wasn’t there, but because I wasn’t ready yet. I didn’t have the technical skill to execute what I could see in my head.

So I let it go.

The original version from 2024 didn't do the concept justice.

Over the next year, I kept painting. A lot.

I focused on building the skills I knew I’d need: lighting, form, subtle expression, and control. And eventually, I came back to the idea.

This time, everything changed.

The scale was larger. The composition was stronger. And I approached it with a much clearer vision:

I wanted beauty to feel unsettling. I wanted a smile that held something just beneath the surface. A warning. A quiet kind of power.

This version of Deer Woman became a turning point for me.

It showed me what’s possible when you stay committed to your practice, even when progress feels slow or invisible. It’s easy to feel like you’re not improving, but sometimes you need a piece like this to look back at and realize how far you’ve actually come.

For me, this was that piece.

The one that made me pause and think, okay… this is working.

And as someone who still loves horror and sitting around a fire on warm summer nights, I am so excited to work on 2026's spooky season painting.

Deer Woman, 2025, after a year of dedication and practice.