The Shape of Impermanence

The year we moved into this huge house, I decided to take full advantage of the room we christened “the atelier”. I had every intention of picking up expressive practices that I’d abandoned over the years – for oh-so-many-reasons. But I stopped attending the local croquis group after only a few months. All of the…

The Emotion of Textures

I used to have a bag of clay in the corner of my atelier here at the house. Which didn’t make much sense since the room was set up for bookbinding. For a year maybe -as a form of meditation – I made tiny begging bowls that I would return to the bag of clay…

A Purpose of Art

I do not need to be co-creater in order to be an active participant in an artwork. I do not believe for a moment that the act of listening is passive. I believe more of us would be better at it if it were.

Poets Who Get Lonely

I am the imaginative version of Emilie Dickinson – shouting from the top of the stairs. Genuinely happy for any company, desperately suspicious. Scared.