MY STORY

My childhood was spent exploring the woods, collecting stones, leaves and Indian beads shaped by fast-flowing water and tumbled gravel. I grew up in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, a block away from the reservoir and a dirt path that led to the Appalachian Trail. My friends and I often hiked into the woods or ventured into vacant houses and buildings, always seeking new adventures, finding baby birds, lizards and tadpoles. During summer nights, we pitched a homemade tent over the clothesline in my yard and slept under the stars. I loved waking up to the essence of morning dew, a stillness and quiet like no other time, broken only by the birds singing to welcome a new day.

On weekends, we visited my grandparents' homestead, a small farm with a fabulous toolshed and sturdy workbench for my grandfather’s projects and woodworking. I can still smell the fresh sawdust that was piling up on the floor. We often hiked across their six acres to the swamp to find critters or climb the tall pine trees. Summers brought trips to our family’s lake house on Lake Minneola in the Poconos. There, I picked wild strawberries, built forts with my cousins, and swam—often venturing out much too far on the lake. As I recall these experiences, it was the fragrances, textures, colors, and structures in both nature and architecture that captured my attention.

My creative grandmother taught me how to crochet, sew, bake, and play cards. Together, we picked apples from her trees and planted perennials in her rock garden. My cousin and I often built forts made of old carpets, creating lean-tos within the trees. We had campfires and pretended to cook, even attempting to make homemade birch beer. These experiences shaped my capacity to explore, experiment, take risks, and play. I am sensitive to sounds, colors, shapes, and textures, and always in tune with the physical world around me. These experiences and my sensitive nature make me highly intuitive and have greatly informed my art.