I was not that child who spent her time drawing and painting all day. In the summer, we would travel to northern Italy, to visit relatives at the childhood home of my mother. It was an eyeblink of a town, and wasn’t even present on the maps of the day. I felt so at home, and spent most of my time gathering wildflowers, and learning to embroider and crochet. I remember what started it all, going to the little general shop in the piazza, and returning with a beautiful treasure. It was a bright red tin with an alpine scene on it, full of colored pencils. I hadn’t the faintest idea what I was going to do with it, but I thought it was so pretty. I didn’t end up using them much, but somehow, I still vividly remember them, as if they filed themselves away in me, for later.
As a young adult, even though my drawing teacher in college told me I should continue with it, as I had “good line quality", I delved into sculpture, pottery, fiber arts, spinning, dyeing, metal working jewelry, native american beading…I wanted to learn it all. Painting and drawing were nowhere on my radar. I was convinced I couldn’t do either.
And yet, years later, somewhat simultaneously, I fell in the deep end. I decided to take some online classes on how to draw and paint stylized portraits. At first, whenever I encountered trouble, my automatic shutdown took over. It wasn’t until I encountered a teacher who created with abandon, that it all made sense. As she was painting, I was horrified to witness her covering up the work in progress over and over. She was “ruining” it! But, the end result was rich and layered, and her girls had so much soulful expression. From that point on, I found my courage, I created with abandon, hung in through the trouble, and came out the other side to meet that new little soul I had created. Each girl, with her very own expression and life, emerged from the page like magic. Some came tentatively, some boisterous and full of life. I was hooked. Somewhere in the middle of this process, I was at an art fair and spied from afar a painting hanging in a booth. The siren’s song was overwhelming, and I rushed over to meet my first encaustic painting. I was fortunate to be able to take a class with a very well known encaustic artist in Seattle, later was introduced to plaster, and I was lost forever.
My passion in life is to combine the fussy mediums of plaster, wax, and portraiture. It is a give and take partnership, a coaxing relationship, full of unpredictability. It’s an organic way of working. It pushes me every time to let go, to breathe, and to delight in the process.