We become artists because we think we have something to say. Something to share with another human being, an opinion, an idea, a dream. We believe we exist in a global society, where one action catalysts another. I exited college during a miasmic confluence of distrust and disturbance. We clung to each other in tiny pockets of community, living by idealism, hoping to effect by example. Some of us succeeded, some of us merely moved on.

Over three decades have past, but still there remains a need for artists/craftspersons to challenge what is with what could be. We question the senses using our own; we invite confrontation or acceptance. I view the world surrounding my small piece of property and realize that we are all part of that which is, was and will be. My hands work what my mind creates. It becomes part of the whole, garnering pleasure or disapproval, but hopefully, effecting and evoking change. With that change comes evolution. And with that growth, a community is transformed.

I studied under a master weaver in Detroit back in the early 70ís. I learned about origins and the simplicity of structure and design. I have taken that truth and, over the years, explored the realities of weave. I began to study color and dyeing at Penland School of Crafts in the mountains of North Carolina. My acquaintance became a friend. About five years ago, I happened upon copper, the oldest mined metal on the planet. It provides new challenges, which I gratefully extend to my community. I continue to examine my motives and myself through my work.




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