My Process

One thing that I am certain of is that I am not an artist. I can’t draw, I don’t understand color theory. I work on small canvases because that’s all that fits on my desk.

This is not about art. This is an attempt at finding a form of communication that engages the range of emotion that surrounds the transitions of sickness unto death. It seems easier now to engage images rather than words to move beyond being stuck and expose the fear, rage, and anger that seeps up through my memory.

These are images are sometimes disturbing. They are crudely fashioned. I try to do things that I do not know how to do. I work with odds and ends I find around me, cheap acrylic paint, card board, canvas board, tissue paper and various acrylic gels.

I’m not an artist, and yet as Stephen Sondheim wrote in his song I’m Still Here, “I should’ve gone to an acting school, that seems clear, Still someone said, “She’s sincere”, so I’m here.” The paintings are a way of saying, I’m still here!