Communication has long been a theme in my work. From figurative illustrations I made in the early 2000s to my recent, large abstract paintings, lines and forms have developed into an alternative language for me. I am a stutterer, and this challenge tends to push me to use the art making process to work through circumstances when words are unavailable. I often paint to speak to my parents, who have both passed away, and my children's energy finds its way into the marks on my pages. My studio process is a solitary experience - the only time I am ever alone - yet I feel most connected to the world around me when I am immersed in my work in this quiet space.
Motherhood’s influence on my artmaking has been twofold: I suffered a five-year creative block when my daughters were young, as they consumed all of my energy. I was heartbroken that my children’s needs drained my creativity from me, but when the block lifted and I began painting again at the start of 2018, the gifts I had received from motherhood came through in my work and elevated it to a new level. The frustrations, delights, physical pain and passionate love my family brings me are integral parts of my artmaking experience, which drive me to my studio now, instead of keeping me from it.
Life on the East End of Long Island influences my work heavily: the energy here shifts dramatically each year, from the quiet solitude of the winter months to the chaotic frenzy of the Hamptons summer crowds. These shifts in energy have a profound effect on me, which comes through in my work. Each mark and stroke of color is a visual manifestation of things happening around me. People, conversations, my emotions and experiences are all put into my paintings through lines and forms.