Although I was born in California, I’ve lived most of my life in Colorado. I’m an only child, an introvert, and pretty much kept to myself growing up. I spent a lot of time reading books, doing various craft projects (an activity encouraged by my mom), and spending time outdoors appreciating the minutiae of nature (encouraged by my dad).
In my early days, I wanted to be a writer, but somewhere in middle school, I discovered drawing. In high school I spent most of my time in the art room. I went to Rocky Mountain College of Art and Design for illustration for a year and a half, though I never finished my degree.
My goal was to be a scientific illustrator. I had a deep interest in paleontology that I nurtured by volunteering at the natural history museum and maintaining memberships in local and national paleo societies. I met my husband Steve through this shared interest. I’ve always loved animals and have kept extensive menageries at various stages of my life: guinea pigs, dogs, fish, ferrets, cats, geckos, anoles, an iguana, a mouse and a packrat.
I believe artists are filters of current cultural thoughts and reflect the values of the society they live in.
They are preservers of history.
Artists from other cultures and times help us understand the events of that era in a human context, just as future generations will look back on today’s artists to understand our current world.
I work in the medium of cut paper sculpture, a type of three-dimensional collage created by layering papers that have been cut and shaped by hand into sculpted forms. It’s an unusual media and a rare choice, although it has become more popular in the 15 years since I discovered the technique. I picked up a book on the art form when I started. It featured nine artists, all with different styles and techniques, so I was able to glean a few tips here and there while I developed my own methods through trial and error.
Over time, I’ve sought to really push the boundaries of what is possible with this medium. Maybe it comes from being raised with regular trips to various craft stores, but I’ve always thought about ways to make art out of unexpected materials. Making art is a little like doing magic, and I want to share that feeling with other people. When people encounter a novel situation, they ask questions and are open to discovery and wonderment.
I love the land where I live and feel most of my kinship with the span of the Rockies and the Southwest. I also feel tradition in the interests I’ve adopted, for instance in the heritage of natural history illustration. I enjoy studying other world cultures and mythology. Most of my work does not approach that theme directly, but sometimes I will seek parallels in symbolism or design elements to incorporate into a piece. I like to contemplate shared connections found across different cultures. Humankind has a habit of building meaning around animals and events of the natural world—some of it deeply insightful, and some of it complete fantasy, out of touch with its source. The thing is, none of that matters to wild creatures that, if left alone, just go about living their day-to-day life in their own way. It’s an interesting dichotomy I like to explore.
My style is a sort of a blend of realism, hyperrealism, and sometimes a little bit of magical realism. My artistic background comes from the study of two-dimensional art, drawing, landscape painting, and concept art. I strive to create collage that resembles painting.
The world is full of wonder and I am moving through it being amazed.
I get ideas in a lot of places. Usually I start with a subject I’d like to highlight, such as “amphibians” or “pollination.” Sometimes it will be a challenge of taking on an artistic concept like “gesture,” “atmospheric effect” or “lines, rays, and circles.” But many times the papers themselves will inspire new ideas with their patterns and textures. If there’s an upcoming show with a theme, I especially enjoy stretching my creativity by coming up with an idea that will fit, yet still providing a new take on the subject.
My pieces begin with a concept. I develop thumbnails and a rough sketch, then seek out references. These can include drawing from life at zoos and museums and motion studies from film footage, as well as lots of internet reference photos. I fill many sketchbook pages with studies of my subject’s anatomy, movement, and personality until I can see the way the animal moves in my mind and feel it in my body. Using what I’ve learned, I revisit my sketch and correct gesture and anatomy.
Color and value studies are also an important step before cutting begins. Then it’s off to the art store for a paper shopping spree! I’ll choose what inspires me with color or pattern. After cutting, the flat paper gains shape as I score lines with a bone needle and create forms by pushing the paper with my fingers. Elements may be subtly tinted with a paintbrush dusted with pastels to emphasize depth or harmony.
Right now I’m dealing with the same challenge many artists face as they establish themselves. How do you build upon the success and recognition you’ve created without falling stagnant into the systems you’ve created that are working? How do you bring a fresh eye and remain bold, playful and experimental with your work so that you can continue to grow and change by building upon your past, not breaking away from it?
I have ideas rolling around for series of smaller works that can be completed more quickly. One series that I’ve already started features a motif of an abstracted sun image as if it is drawn in pen, and a monochromatic animal. The style is very visually graphic. The first piece is called Elk Rising and the second one features a raven. This will be my second year in Art for the Sangres, a benefit show of Western art. So I will be doing some more pieces of regional animals to my area, telling stories closer to home.
“Let me keep my mind on what matters, which is my work, which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished.”
—Mary Oliver
Being accepted into the Society of Animal Artists was I think one of my biggest accomplishments. I was a fairly young artist, and I was juried into the highest level, Signature, on my first application. I was thrown into the mix with some very big-time established artists as my colleagues. I really had to up my game to deserve the honor, and the Society opened many doors of opportunity to me. It made me think about my work and my career in a new context.
I want to convey through my artwork that my story reminds people of their own story and discoveries. There is something wonderful and bigger waiting around the corner always when we look for it, but we have to keep our eyes open and actively seek. I want to motivate people to feel and to pursue that sense of wonder in their own lives.
Although I was born in California, I’ve lived most of my life in Colorado. I’m an only child, an introvert, and pretty much kept to myself growing up. I spent a lot of time reading books, doing various craft projects (an activity encouraged by my mom), and spending time outdoors appreciating the minutiae of nature (encouraged by my dad).
In my early days, I wanted to be a writer, but somewhere in middle school, I discovered drawing. In high school I spent most of my time in the art room. I went to Rocky Mountain College of Art and Design for illustration for a year and a half, though I never finished my degree.
My goal was to be a scientific illustrator. I had a deep interest in paleontology that I nurtured by volunteering at the natural history museum and maintaining memberships in local and national paleo societies. I met my husband Steve through this shared interest. I’ve always loved animals and have kept extensive menageries at various stages of my life: guinea pigs, dogs, fish, ferrets, cats, geckos, anoles, an iguana, a mouse and a packrat.
I believe artists are filters of current cultural thoughts and reflect the values of the society they live in.
They are preservers of history.
Artists from other cultures and times help us understand the events of that era in a human context, just as future generations will look back on today’s artists to understand our current world.
I work in the medium of cut paper sculpture, a type of three-dimensional collage created by layering papers that have been cut and shaped by hand into sculpted forms. It’s an unusual media and a rare choice, although it has become more popular in the 15 years since I discovered the technique. I picked up a book on the art form when I started. It featured nine artists, all with different styles and techniques, so I was able to glean a few tips here and there while I developed my own methods through trial and error.
Over time, I’ve sought to really push the boundaries of what is possible with this medium. Maybe it comes from being raised with regular trips to various craft stores, but I’ve always thought about ways to make art out of unexpected materials. Making art is a little like doing magic, and I want to share that feeling with other people. When people encounter a novel situation, they ask questions and are open to discovery and wonderment.
I love the land where I live and feel most of my kinship with the span of the Rockies and the Southwest. I also feel tradition in the interests I’ve adopted, for instance in the heritage of natural history illustration. I enjoy studying other world cultures and mythology. Most of my work does not approach that theme directly, but sometimes I will seek parallels in symbolism or design elements to incorporate into a piece. I like to contemplate shared connections found across different cultures. Humankind has a habit of building meaning around animals and events of the natural world—some of it deeply insightful, and some of it complete fantasy, out of touch with its source. The thing is, none of that matters to wild creatures that, if left alone, just go about living their day-to-day life in their own way. It’s an interesting dichotomy I like to explore.
My style is a sort of a blend of realism, hyperrealism, and sometimes a little bit of magical realism. My artistic background comes from the study of two-dimensional art, drawing, landscape painting, and concept art. I strive to create collage that resembles painting.
The world is full of wonder and I am moving through it being amazed.
I get ideas in a lot of places. Usually I start with a subject I’d like to highlight, such as “amphibians” or “pollination.” Sometimes it will be a challenge of taking on an artistic concept like “gesture,” “atmospheric effect” or “lines, rays, and circles.” But many times the papers themselves will inspire new ideas with their patterns and textures. If there’s an upcoming show with a theme, I especially enjoy stretching my creativity by coming up with an idea that will fit, yet still providing a new take on the subject.
My pieces begin with a concept. I develop thumbnails and a rough sketch, then seek out references. These can include drawing from life at zoos and museums and motion studies from film footage, as well as lots of internet reference photos. I fill many sketchbook pages with studies of my subject’s anatomy, movement, and personality until I can see the way the animal moves in my mind and feel it in my body. Using what I’ve learned, I revisit my sketch and correct gesture and anatomy.
Color and value studies are also an important step before cutting begins. Then it’s off to the art store for a paper shopping spree! I’ll choose what inspires me with color or pattern. After cutting, the flat paper gains shape as I score lines with a bone needle and create forms by pushing the paper with my fingers. Elements may be subtly tinted with a paintbrush dusted with pastels to emphasize depth or harmony.
Right now I’m dealing with the same challenge many artists face as they establish themselves. How do you build upon the success and recognition you’ve created without falling stagnant into the systems you’ve created that are working? How do you bring a fresh eye and remain bold, playful and experimental with your work so that you can continue to grow and change by building upon your past, not breaking away from it?
I have ideas rolling around for series of smaller works that can be completed more quickly. One series that I’ve already started features a motif of an abstracted sun image as if it is drawn in pen, and a monochromatic animal. The style is very visually graphic. The first piece is called Elk Rising and the second one features a raven. This will be my second year in Art for the Sangres, a benefit show of Western art. So I will be doing some more pieces of regional animals to my area, telling stories closer to home.
“Let me keep my mind on what matters, which is my work, which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished.”
—Mary Oliver
Being accepted into the Society of Animal Artists was I think one of my biggest accomplishments. I was a fairly young artist, and I was juried into the highest level, Signature, on my first application. I was thrown into the mix with some very big-time established artists as my colleagues. I really had to up my game to deserve the honor, and the Society opened many doors of opportunity to me. It made me think about my work and my career in a new context.
I want to convey through my artwork that my story reminds people of their own story and discoveries. There is something wonderful and bigger waiting around the corner always when we look for it, but we have to keep our eyes open and actively seek. I want to motivate people to feel and to pursue that sense of wonder in their own lives.
