When I step into my studio, I step into possibility.  I feel a freedom and excitement to explore my materials, thoughts, ideas, and emotions and connect with what is most true for me. Inspiration comes from my own internal landscape; from colors, shapes, textures and patterns I see around me in my daily life and travels; and from spoken or written words or phrases that grab hold of me. Any or all of these become a springboard for my work.

I use acrylic and house paint, oil pastels, gesso, graphite, charcoal, and a variety of newspapers, old documents, artwork and other raw materials that engage me. The painting evolves through the process of building layers of paint and collage materials; making marks with pastel, pencil and charcoal; and gouging and scraping into the surface with a variety of tools.  The story emerges through the choices I make as I’m working.

Uncertainty and change, loss and letting go are themes I often circle back to. Yet my work is about possibility and hope. Sections that are layered and covered over are no longer visible, but still exist — a poignant reminder of the past.  I can’t erase what has happened to me or what has happened in the world, but I can transform it to something that works better for now. 

Making art helps me feel I have some control over the chaos and complexity of being human.  I want the viewer to share and experience the journey — the quest for understanding and acceptance and a sense of resolution, even if the resolution is momentary.