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In the dreaming hours of my childhood, I gazed out the window and imagined an invented world of tiny creatures living in the fanciful vents on nearby brownstone roofs. Somehow, it led me to Skowhegan, and to the edge of art.

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And then, life unfolded in the usual unexpected ways. Marriage, job, children…40 years go by and then I start again.

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Even though I wasn’t creating art during those interim years, some part of me was maintaining and enriching the dreams of my youth. At what must have been the right moment, the images resurfaced and the invented worlds came tumbling out. 

 

In my first incarnation as an artist, I was a painter.  The second time around, clay and printmaking became the pathway to art.  In each discipline, the materials and process suit me.  Clay yields the secrets of forms, printmaking, the joy of mark making and color.  The kiln and the printing press offer the thrill of the unexpected and an enticement to discover and engage in a work over time.  I am able to explore stories erupting from memory and imagination.

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Many stories, my stories, old, new, not yet known...emerging.