As I see it, all things, are metaphors. In all places, from the grocery store to the dried up river bed, my mind is activated. It’s not uncommon for me to see something, and start crying, “Did you see those sunflowers? It’s so devastating, but they have forgotten that their seeds on the ground are going to have a chance to grow, once the snow melts”, or “those spring leaves will not fall off no matter how hard the wind blows”. I see nature and then relate it to myself. My work reacts to the things that I see in my environment; those things that are being taught to us in quiet ways. My work is quiet. It’s a noisy world. There is so much that we are forced to look at. I prefer quiet contemplation.
Much of my artwork comes from mothering six children and the sacrifice that accompanies it. I look to nature to parallel self, illustrate the strength and influence of women through generations, and manifest the growth in mankind. I see cycles in all things, the choices that we make and the impact that it has. Growth, decay, sacrifice, evidence; all common themes in my work. I use both natural elements (dirt, seeds, gravity, clay and plaster) and domesticated elements (sewing, knitting, used clothes, journaling). I work with things I am familiar with as a mother, a housewife, a gardener, and an artist.