My mother took up the potters’ wheel in high school, and when she reminisced about kicking the wheel, her eyes would sparkle.  She would stand on one foot as the other one kicked rhythmically in the air and it was enough to make any child giggle.  She was good!  Perfectly round and very thin coil-built pieces: lime greens, bright oranges that were probably full of lead (it was 1937).  She made the process sound like such fun!  After college and into a job, I signed up for a wheel-throwing class at the Hand Workshop (now Visual Arts Center) in Richmond.  I wasn’t very good, but I loved the feel of the clay and I kept throwing until I was able to build some level of competency.

 

I never considered myself particularly gifted as an artist.  When I say "gifted," I mean to differentiate that concept from "skilled."  That is, I have never felt like I was born into this world knowing how to create masterworks.  Even those of us who don't consider ourselves "gifted" artists can enjoy the process of creation and gain an even greater respect for those who are truly graced with such a natural endowment. After working at this for more than 40 years, I accept the notion that I am skilled with room to grow.      

My forms are simple and quiet so that I can use surfaces as a canvas for both stylized nods to nature and happy doodles.  I love to make table lamps and pair just the right paper for each lampshade.   I am in awe of the beauty and singularity of plants and flowers and inspired by an array of images from botanical illustrations to garden photographs to Georgia O’Keefe macro paintings, and the fantastical works of Henri Rousseau.

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Lately, I've been playing with some primitive or "pit" firing. Back in the last century, there was a guy named Paul Soldner; if you're a potter and old enough, you might remember him. He explored contemporary techniques like raku and fast salt firing. I was fortunate enough to take a workshop with him at the Corcoran School of Art 30 years ago and some of his (dare I say reckless) experiments with surface techniques have helped me to find my voice with these pit-fired pieces.  Thank you Paul.

 

Art isn't required to search for the meaning of the cosmos.  My work is intended purely for the amusement of the visual sense, not necessarily for the intellect.  Beauty gives our souls a little refreshment so we can get on with the more mundane tasks of life.

 

Other fun facts…

B.S. in Biology with concentration in Botany

M.B.A.

Tap dancer/ballroom dancer

Day Job: Grant Developer at Old Dominion University