September 2019

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.

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.

As a mother and and a working artist, I am constantly juggling between these two roles, and this impacts my work in many ways (contextually, visually, and how I produce it). I “steal” studio time in bits and pieces whenever I can, and my artmaking process is constantly being interrupted by the tasks of motherhood. Without these frustrations, however, I do not think my work would be as urgent to me and my daughters provide me with a need to leave behind a legacy for them.

In-progress mixed-media landscape on rag. 5x7 feet, inspired by Netflix’s new She-Ra cartoon and David Hockney’s paintings of the Colorado River and Grand Canyon.

In-progress mixed-media landscape on rag. 5x7 feet, inspired by Netflix’s new She-Ra cartoon and David Hockney’s paintings of the Colorado River and Grand Canyon.