Art as Sustenance
I feel like every day holds the mysterious, the beautiful, and
the strange deep within it.
I grew up in a haunted pink adobe house in Santa Fe. While I ran wild through the
high desert landscape, my parents created art in their studios at home. My father was a ceramic artist and my mother wove Ikat wall hangings. We traveled everywhere showing their work at Arts & Crafts fairs across the country. I spent my childhood wandering the magical aisles of the fairs, marveling at the myriad of art forms
When home, I would sit at my father’s kick wheel, or try to use my mother’s loom, tangling her weaving into a knot. I cannot remember a time when I wasn’t covering everything in sight with illustrations. I eventually began to illustrate a children’s magazine at the age of 11.
When I took watercolor lessons at the age of 16 the medium spoke to me emphatically, and I never looked back.
For me, works of art are not frivolous or capricious things- they are essential. Having art in my life gives me hope and sustenance. It creates a lens from which to view the world around me in a different and beautiful way. Holding my favorite books, music, and paintings in my heart creates a reality (moment by moment) that I wouldn’t have otherwise. With my work I strive to capture those ephemeral moments which we all experience, both real and imagined.
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