Biography

My early life in the 1950’s was one of little money and much travel. My parents were partners in pursuit of higher learning, often landing scholarships, research projects and professorships abroad. They instilled in me what now feels like an instinctual desire for equal human rights throughout the world. They also taught me to think critically - to think for myself – to question authority and seek the truth.

In this family of academicians, however, my brain took a right turn. I got by in school and loved to read, but my inclination was to create, play, dream and fantasize. This lead to elaborate story telling at a young age, complete with detailed drawings to emphasize my pain or elation at the moment.

I believe it was during these early years that I began to take notice of the various patterns, jewelry and adornment worn by different people. They colored my many worlds. From earthy to exotic, the images of women and children around the globe grabbed at my heart and I wanted to paint them - recreate them.

While living in Holland, my grandmother, an artist, took me to art classes at an Amsterdam museum. Little did she know that the spark she ignited with this gesture would glow and grow for decades. The memory of entering that museum with her, hand-in-hand, feeling so special – it sticks in my throat. Perhaps she thought I might have some talent.

My parents were clearly my greatest influence. You can see and hear them in me, and I love them dearly. But it was this grandmother, the only other forgetful, whimsical, right-brained artist in our family that seemed to understand me. Our kinship was unique. I have and cherish her art and poetry to this day.

My teenage years were full of rebellion. I became my parents’ daughter in ways they had not anticipated. I thought for myself, as they’d taught me, and questioned their authority. I left home at 17 and took a bus to Berkeley, California with my African-American boyfriend. I got pregnant and we got married. I was 19.

My son, Saul, was and is my greatest gift of life. I have always known we were chosen for one another. I would stare at my beautiful, brown baby boy for hours. I would just watch him in awe. He played and grew. Good or bad, we grew up together. Such was our destiny.

By my mid-20’s I had taken various art classes, including several at the College of Arts and Crafts in Oakland, California. I was now a single mom, on welfare, and in need of a decent paying job. My parents helped when they could and I began a 35-year career of waitressing.

During those 35 years I experienced and survived suicidal depression, poverty, abuse and addiction. Looking back, I feel very lucky, even wise, to have lived life so fully. I have learned lessons often not available to others. I believe that my highs and lows raised and lowered the emotional bar to such extremes that my creative continuum had no choice but to grow in both directions – and far. I’ve always felt things so very deeply and I finally know to embrace them.

Though I painted and journaled through some of those trying years, most of my creative energy went into raising Saul - and me. For a few years that meant drinking and using drugs. Later that meant trying to get clean and sober. Both require time and commitment. Artwork had to wait.

Though my artwork took a sabbatical, of sorts, for about 20 years, it remerged in early recovery, took another break and remerged again in 1998 with a vengeance. My works of old, though thoughtful and thought provoking, are clear reminders of darker times.

My latest works, still deep with meaning for me, are brighter, lighter, colorful and full of life. I mix acrylics, ink, pastels, fabric, ribbon and beads – you name it – anything I might find beautiful or interesting. And I create images, mostly women and children from anywhere in the world, that scream out to me, “We are beautiful!” - “Look at me!”

In 2006 I retired and moved to San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato, Mexico. Three of us share a home that affords me an art studio in this charming colonial Mexican town. Daily, I note a sense of inner bliss that I rarely experienced in my country of origin. This town turns me on! Its colors and patterns, history and culture, races of every mix are mine, just to borrow for a while, to see and hold in my memory - until my next creation.

My wish is to create my artwork for as long as I can and share it with whoever is interested. If all you do is look, the pleasure is mine.