May 24, 2017

 ASK ©1990, brings together themes I return to again and again. Part of sensing the impossible beauty of the world (that stops you in your tracks with its extravagance) and responding with an intensity of feeling is the recognition that all of our human experiences are ephemeral. Everything that you or I experience- from the soft evening breeze ruffling the elm leaves and lightly touching our skin to the deep friendship we develop with another person – all of this will end for each of us.A narrative about this is featured in the 3 artists’ books of this installation.

Sample of text from

First Book (A):

Old friend,

oldest friend,

It was you I looked for,

running home.

Shadow of a plane

passes over me.

Patch of dark glides away,

over sparkling white sidewalk squares.

It was you,

I played a...

September 28, 2016

It takes courage to let what wants to emerge- do so without consciously or unconsciously steering it into something that is easier to talk about, easier to acknowledge, something that grabs attention but stays on the surface without getting too close to the raw fleshy core. This is what I was thinking about while cutting out the sharp edged black and white fabric pieces (intuitively, much as I would create a drawing) that gradually became Struggle for Voice (©1985). A white suspended horizontal ladder floats in front of a 8 x 10’ hand sewn layered fabric piece, while black vinyl arrow shaped leaves on 10” black stems cluster in one corner, pulling it down and spilling onto the floor. Using the materials and processes of fabric, bringing them out of my functional skill set as...

April 26, 2016

Here is a detail of fragments from past installations I am using to create something new to mark the first year of Second Sight. It will hang from the ceiling (approximately 14 x 18’) on a substructure made of deer fence netting, making a sort of canopy, that you experience by looking up at it.   





February 3, 2016

From a drawing on a 30 x 22” sheet of paper, with a version of the text If You ©1993, which later became If I, the double accordion structure of this artists' book opens up on each side. In timeless black and white it aches with the everydayness of trying to figure things out within the limits and possibilities of ongoing human relationships. Sample of the text: If you forgot my face. If you lost your job. If you knew the truth. If you loved only red.




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