I grew up in a tiny coastal town just south of San Francisco, in a time before freeways or television. We did have a car, a big square black object with window shades and scratchy Victorian upholstery. We also had a telephone–a ten-party line–and we listened to serials on the radio.
In the Fifties, at the age of 16, I left home for college, marriage, and travel, ending up a single parent with a Ph.D. in English. After a long stint in academia, I retired early in favor of the artist’s life, which I’m still living, but in a world radically transformed from the one into which I was born.
I’m grateful for having enjoyed many years of experience, other places as well as other times, all of which have inspired my rather idiosyncratic vision–the world that I paint, draw, piece together, sculpt, or otherwise fabricate.
