I spent my childhood in Pittsburgh in a house with art on the walls, and paper and scissors and paints and paste available, and my Sunday mornings in a Presbyterian church. Even so I was eighteen before I had faith, and completing a degree in Child Study at Tufts University before I knew that my heart's desire was "doing art". Actually, I remember the day. I was enrolled in a course on children's art, and we future teachers were exploring simple printmaking. That was it.

Early fascination with architecture and interior design, cutting and pasting pretend rooms when I was not rearranging the bedroom furniture, and even an inspiring course on classroom design, did not, somehow, end in professional pursuits of those strong interests. Indeed it was not until I found myself "building" 3-D books, and "constructing" quilts of pieces of printed and calligraphed fabric, that I made the connection between what I do now and that early excitement. Part of what I love about this work is that I am designer and builder, and the "trip" from drawing board to press to thread or glue, and often back and forth several times, allows me to have control of the many variables at every point. I describe my work as printmaking and calligraphy on paper and cloth. While I have experimented with screen printing and linocuts, it is relief printmaking with cut-out, and therefore usually "moveable", images which thrills me.

For as long as I can remember I have found the written word compelling- in content and form. And I love that WORD is one of the ways Jesus is described. Our mother made Carnegie Library part of our life; and she placed at home, where we could not miss them, shirt cardboards on which was written where she was, what to do, or who had called- or what SHE didn't want to forget. I too have used the written note to communicate with my husband and seven children (and myself). But I like to put words of LIFE around too- sometimes in unexpected places- on beds, walls, or towels for example- where those I love will not miss them... I am driven in part by Deuteronomy 11- "You shall therefore impress these words of Mine on your heart and on your soul... and you shall write them on the doorpost of your house and on your gates." (NASB)

Even as my children settle in places like Russia and Congo, or have children whose other grandparents are Spanish speakers, and new languages (and alphabets) beckon- and land on my quilts and in my books, I find myself looking back (and forward?) from my home and studio in Massachusetts to my first place, Pittsburgh, the place where the Monongahela and the Allegheny meet to form the Ohio- delighting in and thinking about the forms of buckeyes, sycamore trees, wrens and cardinals, and rivers- while I sit in my garden on the bench that belonged to my grandparents.