About the Artist

To say I was born into extraordinary circumstances might be an understatement.  And not in the way you might initially think when the word ‘extraordinary’ comes across a page.  

When I say ‘extraordinary’, I mean significantly out of the ordinary in all dark ways. 

I grew up in post-World War II Germany in a family that war-ravaged deeply.  Often we forget that World War II is a memory that is still white hot in so many minds, especially of those from Germany. 

My mother grew up on a farm, where hunger meant starving, and starving meant death–food, and excess was the only way to survive. 

On the other hand, my father was forced into service for a cause he did not support, as a method to attempt to keep his and his family’s life.  

Their marriage, and my childhood was strange.  My mother was constantly worried for my safety, fearing for me to even play with friends. My father was constantly reminding me that “I’m just a girl” and that I can make nothing of myself. 

Their relationship was constantly in a process of reorganization. For years my mother would pile papers, my father would collate them, tie them with twine, and stack them in neat bundles in the basement.  Only to have my mother bring them upstairs again, cut the twine and start anew.  A perilous cycle where when one created, the other longed to destroy, in endless circles.  An apt metaphor for the undoings a war can cause on a marriage, a family, and a human being, with multi-generational impact.

When you’ve known no safety, the world is a terrifying place. 

• And all you can hope to do is keep safe those whom you love.

• Control, in a society ravaged by war, is a method of expressing love. 

• Any attempt to keep safety close at hand is an act of kindness.  

I am an artist as an act of repair. 

To bring light to the darkness of moments long gone. To illuminate the gashes left, knit them back together, and tenderly expose the scars.