I believe I was born dreaming. There hasn’t been a time I did not believe I was Artist. My experience of the world is beautiful to me; captivating. Every color, every sound and every smell was and is emotionally felt and for every emotion there must be expression or I would shrivel with no way to relate. No detail is missed in my moments and as a child they found there way onto paper, straight from a crayon box. The expression of art, the expression of language and eventually language in art gave me that channel and space and freedom to allow all the information coming in simultaneously and overwhelmingly to have its home of order where it made sense. I was born with a gift for a language, just not in words. I struggled for most of my life to find enough words or the right words to express the experience of life and love and living to the those that mattered most and to all around me.
Art is my words. It is language.
Art is the sacred space in my life where there is an undisturbed light; untainted and untouched by the world, it’s hurts and it’s standards. Art is the one place my dreams and my language and experience can and will exist in their purest and most delightful nature. I have never stopped dreaming of the possibilities of art. I have always dreamed of the simple and beautiful process of creating because it is my conversation; natural and known and now touching others. My deepest place is connecting with the deepest places of others-without words.