“Never do I intend to underestimate what can become of a piece of paper.” This is the vow that propelled me into the pursuit of fine and applied paper making art more than twenty years ago. With all my professional training elsewhere, it was a radical leap of faith. But in truth, my heart and hands have been at work seeking to say something essential and aesthetically satisfying about the lure of real life for much longer.

Working primarily in paper, I create collage, assemblage, work in relief and small sculpture. One day very early on I noticed the shadow created by a raised square of paper in my composition and was stopped in my tracks. I can only explain the thrill of this discovery as evidence of my deep appreciation for paper objects, things with some heft and dimension. Since then, the work usually layers element upon paper element to reveal an object’s slim but real presence in the physical world.

It was only a matter of time I now see before the genre of still life would capture my imagination. I have always been in the firm clutches of life’s everyday domestic news, aware that our most mundane-seeming activities can become the stuff of dreams, inherently sensuous, intimate and a potential source of beauty and grace. Deceptively straightforward, the content of any still life is a wholly personal celebration of cherished goods and at the same time an expression of an artist’s cultural environment. Each and every still life tells a story about an individual artist’s values and also about their place in the universe at a given moment. It is still life in motion.

Though inspiration for artwork can slip in from most anywhere, I take particular pleasure in studying the traditions of American folk art. Surrounded at home by painted furniture, basketry, quilts and theorems, it is easy to absorb on a regular basis the craftsmanship, attention to detail, ingenuity, economy of means and especially the ways an object’s surface may age to advantage. Even the palette used for much of this material has influenced my sense of color.

It is because of this leaning and its reflection in my work that a second collaboration with Olde Hope is so welcome. Settling into their gallery along with the furnishings they so carefully select is like being among family.