I am a Dayton, Ohio-raised, Detroit-formed woman of the late 1960s—of Vietnam War protests, mind-expanding trips, and a self-imposed mandate to change the world and... I’m in love with LINE. Lines that pulse and dance and writhe their way across a canvas; lines that begin as solid, upstanding geometric citizens and end, like dying fireworks, in an explosion of dots and scratches; unruly ink lines from battered Asian brushes and precisely drawn stripes. Line is the heart of my work.

But if line is the heart, then COLOR gives it soul. My color comes from PAPER, not paint. I bury my lines in layers of colored papers, then razor some back to the surface, leaving the others in the pools of color that define the space between. It’s a crazy process, but one that preserves the emotion and integrity of my original lines and impressions of our world.