I am a collector of things botanical. Not of houseplants but of the parts of nature that the earth leaves behind as evidence of the changes it continually moves through. There exists a parallel of our lives with the ephemeral essence of the earth within this organic detritus. Seasons change and storms leave me material to work with. Trees shed their bark and insects move on to new dwellings. I bring it all back and live with it in my studio. Some of these materials remain as they are and some continue to change, to oxidize, and disintegrate. This does not bother me. The organic nature of the material is what defines my efforts and I can appreciate the alterations that I am able to sometimes capture in my own work.
The brain tumor at age 10 left me stumbling through childhood. Ceramics was the way I found to stand on my feet. Many years later, I began to explore the figure in clay while working as an assistant in the same ceramics studio I attended as a youth in Atlanta. Then on to New York City where a number of my studio years were spent simultaneously studying the human and equine figures. Human models were supplied by the New York Studio School and the Art Students League of New York. The hansom cab horses on Manhattan’s Westside provided the animal inspiration while all the time I was learning different techniques for casting these forms.
The movement of my work toward the abstract conceptual has grown out of a prolonged personal involvement with breast cancer. The work follows an exploratory path that reflects the realizations that come through an intense experience such as this. These understandings continue to show themselves as if doors of thought and intuition have been opened which I may not have been so fortunate to walk through had the chips fallen in a different way. Isn’t that true for all people in their experience?
The work is as much praise for the strength of the human spirit as a reaction to my own life changes. I focus on a search for balance in this life and on our overpowering instinct to move forward regardless of the obstacles. For a several years now, I have been investigating nurturing forms and spaces. This may be driven by the past, medical traumas and a need to continually create my own sense of security. Or it may stem from the emotionally driven questions that arise from non-motherhood. Who knows. It may not even be important as to where the work comes from but instead the conviction that it is moving in the right direction.