I grew up in a small town in southern Wisconsin. There’s a private college there, Beloit College, that had outdoor art festivals every year. I remember when I was 5 going to one of those festivals when two incredible artists, Frank Boggs and Vern Schaeffer, were there. I watched Vern sculpt for hours. It struck me that artists could create things that were more interesting than what I could actually see. I wanted to be able to do that.

I didn’t become an artist then. It happened to me as an exchange student in Australia. A bunch of us living around the Sydney area went on vacation together up in Queensland. We went snorkeling out on the Great Barrier Reef one day. There were colorful fish and coral and little reef sharks in abundance. A school of blue tangs were swimming together. The sight was overwhelming. They danced and played together in the water in the most perfectly elaborate choreography. It looked as if color itself was celebrating. It was carnivalesque and simply nature all at once.

I came back to Wisconsin and started at Beloit College. My debate over whether to major in art or math was over. I had to find a visual way to express what I’d experienced on the Barrier Reef. I started studying sculpture under my dear friend and professor, Ralph Knasinski.

After I graduated, I moved to New York. At the time, an art career meant that you also had to be talented in sales. Not interested in pursuing that, I went back to school for mathematics, and worked for years as a business analyst, creating art purely for my own pleasure whenever I could.

No longer satisfied by pursuing art as a sidebar in my life, I came back to painting full time. I paint what I feel deeply affected by. A flower dripping with color and strong architecture. Or the euphoria of a shared experience with family, one of those truly perfect days like hiking a wooded sunlit trail by a river, when everything wonderful is pulled together at once, sounds of birds, water, crunching leaves, chatting and giggling, scents of pine and wildflowers, earth and river, color everywhere, sometimes harmonious and sometimes striking, a yellow flower against clay colored earth and vibrant green grass and little pink cowgirl boots crossing over the river rocks ahead of me. You can see the math in my art, patterned geometry masking much of it in harmonious organization, a peaceful stability to ground everything, my tranquility.

My work is always trying to utilize tranquility in geometry, euphoria in color and strength in architecture to achieve happy, peaceful images.

I live in Fort Worth, Texas with my husband, two daughters and our dog.

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