Every day I feel compelled to create: I am a maker at heart. As a self-taught mixed-media artist, every experience, workshop, experiment and mistake — whether in life or in my studio — becomes a form of education. Over the course of my 30-plus-year career, I have experimented with a plethora of materials and techniques — porcelain, wood, wire, metal, paper, encaustic, oil, cold wax, acrylic, sculpture, printmaking and collage, to name a few. I simply have to make, and materiality is at the core of my work.
Like most, I am who I am in large part because of my parents. I was raised by a dad who, even in the courtroom as a trial lawyer, filled the margins of his legal pads with drawings of whimsical characters that he later developed into a 30-year printmaking and drawing practice after retirement. Outside the courtroom, he studied and performed magic while my mom hardly had time to change out of her leotard and tights after dance class in order to return to her life as our mother. A dance and art history teacher, she usually carried a slide projector in the car (or in whichever arm was free) and somehow managed to remember to put swatches of fabric in her oversized pocketbook in case she happened to find a spare second to pop into a fabric store. (She and I have a lot in common.)
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