Artist Statement

Most artists are somewhat reluctant to talk about their work and even more reluctant to talk about themselves. I’m no exception. I think the reason for this is because, whether or not we artists like to admit it, each of our works exposes at least some part of us to the world. Our conflicts, our concerns, and even our most private fears sometimes find their way onto the canvas. Fortunately, for most of us, the urge to create outweighs the urge toward the safety of privacy. Furthermore, we as artists, don’t always know just how much of ourselves we’re parading before the world. And even for the bravest among us, that can be a frightening proposition. Therefore, it isn’t uncommon that the viewer of a work sees it far differently than does the artist that created it. 

One of my life-long conflicts has been between idealism and realism. Having grown up in a small New England town that was isolated from much of the real world, I became involved in the arts and grew up with my eyes on art rather than on life. When I wasn't dancing, I was painting. And at other times I played in the woods and streams around my rural home. By the time I reached college I became involved in the social services—working with the mentally retarded, institutionalized mentally ill, old persons in nursing homes and the like. I discovered sexism, racism, ageism, poverty, pollution, and a host of other unfortunate realities. Well, I must tell you, I found out the meaning of the phrase “rude awakening.” The idealism that had grown from my preoccupation with art got broadsided by the realism of life, a realism for which I was virtually unprepared.

Often my paintings are my protest and my voice. I have spent decades painting the struggles and resilience I witness. Misogyny, greed, and environmental destruction are not new, but they are urgent and art must bear witness.

I have been painting and demonstrating since the 1970s, shaped by a lineage of feminists; my great-grandmother, grandmother, and mother, who all believed in justice, equality, and the urgent need to speak truth to power. Many of my paintings reflect my journey through a world corroded by systemic greed, prejudice, and injustice.

Through expressive watercolors, an intentionally delicate medium, I portray the resilience and vulnerability of those navigating oppression. My work holds tension; between beauty and critique, between despair and hope. The pieces are layered, human, and alive with the contradictions of our time. I don’t claim to have the answers. Instead, I offer questions; questions about power, about truth, about who gets to write the story of our world.