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About the Artist

This is the part I always hate. Trying to define myself in a few short paragraphs is nearly impossible and I hate the standard "I'm 42 and the mother of two...blah blah blah" definition. I love my husband and kids, but I don't define myself as a wife and mother, I think of myself more as an artist and a thinker.

I was lucky enough to be brought up by a mother who encouraged my creative side, and by having a father that helped to pass on a little bit of artistic talent, but since he left when I was very young, I don't count him as a major influence in my life. He was a very well educated artist and went to the Art Institute of Chicago and attended the Arts Student's League of New York. He went into graphic arts and became Senior Production Artist at Walt Disney World in Orlando before his death in the early 90's. My father was completely absent in my life after the age of 5, and I only saw him two times in 30 years. Still his legacy lived on in my house, and several of his paintings still hung on the wall to remind me.

It was my mother however, who was there and who encouraged me when she saw that I had some talent. She wasn't an artist, but she was a fantastic seamstress and I picked up a great deal of knowledge from her. She taught me to appreciate the beauty in the world, and bought me a camera very early on. We would travel to historic places and I with my camera in hand would snap shots happily as she pointed out different perspectives and particularly beautiful scenery. I was the only person I knew at the time who had photo albums full of pictures with absolutely no people in them at all.

When I was in High school I took an art class for the first time as an "easy credit". Up until that time I had plenty of creativity, but hadn't really tried to draw much. Immediately my art teacher became amazed at my work, and she encouraged me to try things seperate from the rest of the class. While the others were making stained glass pictures out of tissue and black construction paper, I was in the corner sculpting with plaster of paris, or painting the classroom wall.

I sent some of my sketches to my father after I had been in art classes for a few years, and he called my mother and promptly told her to break my hands. This disturbed me for years, but later I began to understand that it was not as malicious a statement as I once thought. Art can be a blessing and a curse and in some strange way I believe he was trying to protect me from those hardships.

I had planned to go to art school, but life got in the way. I ended up married at a young age, and school was no longer an option after my daughter was born. I lived the vast majority of my life with an undiagnosed mental illness that wreaked havoc on my personal life, which kept me from persuing the dream of art school, but I was determined to learn in spite of my situation.

After a car accident in '98, which could easily have taken my life, I was left in near constant pain. Steroids given to ease the pain caused a severe reaction, and I was diagnosed with Bipolar Affective Disorder, better known as Manic Depression. I don't hide this fact from anyone, as I am not embarrassed to have a "physical" disorder. Our brains are in fact part of our bodies and physical form, and Bipolar Disorder is a condition that affects the brain in many, yet unknown ways. It is a part of who I am, and I don't deny any of what makes me "ME".

Over the next 4 years, I battled with my mental health which had deteriorated severely and landed me in the hospital multiple times. During this time, I laid aside all art and didn't so much as pick up a pen or pencil. After an incident that nearly caused my demise at my own hands, I picked my art back up and it literally saved my life. Once again I had a purpose, and it brought me back to the real world.

I worked extensively in pen and inks for several years, and by chance I picked up a box of polymer clay for my daughter as a christmas present, and bought two for myself. I've been hooked ever since. I started creating art dolls the beginning of this year, and I have fallen in love with it.

Reflecting back over my life I now realize that most of my experiences have led me to this one profession. I've always maintained that I am a knowledge junkie, that is, I strive to learn as much as I can about everything. This has also been true of my creative side. People have accused me of being without direction with regards to my art, since I was never content to settle on one medium.

As a child, I never spent as much time playing with toys as I did making things to play with. As an adult I didn't do much better. Some art medium or craft would catch my attention, and although many friends and family members would tell me how much they loved what I created, they would always get exasperated at the fact that I would learn one skill well, then move on to something else. I never made a career out of perfecting one thing and sticking to it. I tried everything.

Once a friend gave me a small loom, and I learned how to weave, but my curiosity led me to want to know more about how the fibers and yarns themselves were made. I lived in the country, and had several acres to play with, so I decided I'd try and find a sheep to raise so I could have some wool on hand to shear, dye, spin and use for weaving. It didn't quite work out that way since there were no sheep in the area to buy, so I bought a goat instead. I fell in love with them and soon one goat became 20, and this led me to want to figure out what to do with them all. I learned how to milk them, and wound up with so much milk, I looked for things I could do with it, and found cheese making as an outlet.

Thus has been my entire life. One thing leads to another, and another, and eventually, like a good conversation around the kitchen table with old friends, weaving leads to cheese. Woodworking leads to furniture building, which leads to weaving cane seats, which leads to making seat cushions, and on and on we go.

I learned how to quilt and made several very beautiful items, but the novelty wore off and something would inevitably catch my interest and I would move on to something else. I worked in pen and ink for a while, and then I'd move on to woodworking, then to something altogether different. I learned how to cross stitch, work leather, weave, paint with oils, watercolors and acrylics, sculpt, build furniture, carve and burn wood, and well, just about anything and everything. It would drive everyone around me nuts because if I could only stick with one thing they reasoned, and produce a lot of that one thing, I could make a decent living.

Repetition is not my strong suit however. Just say "mass produce" and my skin would crawl. I wanted originality, spontaneity, and most of all diversity. Now I have found art doll making, and it just works. I can use all of my knowledge about all I have learned, and creatively put it all together as I wish, when I wish, and have great fun doing it. No repetition, and no stagnation. I have just as much fun creating the "extras" that go with the dolls as I do making the dolls themselves.

Finally, after 41 years, I have finally found my niche in life and in the creative process, without the help of art school. I'm finally happy where I am and I think I'll stay a while.