MIXED MEDIA
ALONG THE SHORE
Series will be on exhibit at the Holland Area Arts Council, June-July 2025
EROSIONAL REMAINS SERIES
5 x 5"
Ink, Colored Pencil, Wax
KINVARA - SURFACE & STRUCTURE 1
6 x 6"
Image Transfer, Encaustic
KINVARA - SURFACE & STRUCTURE 2
6 x 6"
Image Transfer, Encaustic
KINVARA - SURFACE & STRUCTURE 3
6 x 6"
Image Transfer, Encaustic
KINVARA - THROUGH THE GLASS
6 x 8" - SOLD
Image Transfer, Encaustic
KINVARA - PRESENT TENSE
8 x 10"
Image Transfer, Encaustic
OPEN BOOK 1
Collage
OPEN BOOK 2
Collage
OPEN BOOK 3
Collage
OUT OF THE WOODS
Collage
WOODS AND SHORE FRAGMENTS
Collage
MIGRATORY PATTERN 1
24 x 24" - SOLD
Image Transfers on Dyed Papers, Thread
MIGRATORY PATTERN 2
24 x 24" - SOLD
Image Transfers on Dyed Papers,
Sticks, Thread
BIRDS OF A FEATHER
24 x 32" - SOLD
Paper Kimono with Indigo Dyed Paper,
Ink, Thread
Pieces from the
AFTER IMAGE EXHIBITION
October 2- October 30, 2015
NOTICE EVERY LIVING THING
7 x 20" - SOLD
Mixed Media
ALL IN ALL
24 x 24"
Image Transfers on Handmade Papers, Hand-Lettered Text
CHRISTINE 1953
10 x 32"
Image Transfers on Mulberry Papers with Stitching
SUSAN AT 14
10 x 38"
Image Transfers on Mulberry Papers with Stitching
SUSAN AT 16
10 x 32"
Image Transfers on Mulberry Papers with Stitching
THREE WEDDINGS 1958-60
12 x 42" - SOLD
Image Transfers on Hand-dyed Mulberry Papers, Encaustic
MARGIE AS A BRIDE 1961
12 x 18"
Image Transfers, Colored Pencils, Hand-lettered Text
DISTANT CONVERSATION 1
7 x 12"
Image Transfers, Indigo-dyed Papers, Encaustic, Letterpress, Stitching, Gold Leaf
DISTANT CONVERSATION 3
7 x 12"
Image Transfers, Indigo-dyed Papers, Collage, Letterpress, Stitching
FORTUNE SEEKER
10 x 12"
Image Transfers, Indigo-dyed Papers, Colored Pencils, Hand-lettered Text
HOW DEEP IS THE OCEAN, HOW HIGH IS THE SKY?
18 x 24"
Image Transfers on Varied Papers, Hand-lettered Text
ONLY YOU
16 x 24"
Image Transfers, Encaustic, Letterpress
WHEN WE WERE
22 x 28"
image transfers, hand-dyed papers, Letterpress, Encaustic, Stitching
Mixed Media Award
Oliver Art Center - 2024
A LONG WAY HOME
10 x 32"
Image Transfers on Mulberry Papers, Indigo-dyed papers, Letterpress, Cine Colle
Artists Statement - "THROUGH THE PAST" Series
Featured in an exhibit at Ninth Wave Studio in late 2020
On Thursday, March 12, I left the campus of Kalamazoo Valley Community College, where I teach Art and Humanities courses, and, like everyone else, had no idea when –or if—any of us would be together in the classroom again.
So different than a long weekend made possible by inclement weather . . . day by day the realization that this wasn’t going away. The news and views. Reportage. Phone calls, texting, zooming. Listening to the echoes in my beautiful rooms, now museum-like, of a recent dinner party, “let’s do this more”! “We should get together more often!”
A last dinner out with friends on that Friday—the 13th; the restaurant already only half full on a typically packed Friday night--and no music on the empty stage.
The curtain was lowering as I crossed off plans, appointments, trips, workshops, gatherings made ahead of time; the future illegible now. Can’t read it.
Rewrote the curriculum. Got busy. Noticed the fabric of my life, so tightly woven and lovely, unraveling.
How to re-weave a life so rich? Knowing that the effort will have to be undone, redone, re-invented over and over. What is habitual? What is meaningful? Daily life and its comfortable rhythm of pattern and repetition becomes intentional practice.
Surprisingly, the relationship with each and every one of my students took on an intimacy not quite possible in the rocking and rolling classroom environment. All quiet now: “here’s my assignment”, and “my life is. . . I hope you are ok. . . I miss our class. . . here’s a link to listen to, to watch. . .” Grief and appreciation.
Spring. I walked the streets of my city daily --and early, as the light was leading us into longer days. Stepping over puddles, glancing at my reflection there, and in the shuttered windows, feeling the breeze as I passed through air—refreshingly clear, the chicken scratching in Bobby’s yard, the chartreuse shoot of an emerging flower, the birdsong—constant, the geese—slowing their crossing near the ponds. Why rush?
Fragments. Moments. A question--what is available to me now? Scraps of material leftover from bigger ideas, “serious” work—"use what you have” as a daily practice, “move material” (something I tell my students).
Intentional—yet random, each collage was a little conversation with myself, a deep dive into memory, a kind of meditation, a daily prayer until I finally tired of the ritual and moved on. At some point I added them up, like playing cards, sorted, grouped and arranged. At last count there were 65.
If I had considered a “magic” number to coincide with my 65 students who moved through the end of the semester with me--our COVID Spring-- or the 65th year I aged into in May, my ritual would have been a plan.
What will we become? We can be our own best teachers in this reflective moment.
THROUGH THE PAST
21 x 70"
Mixed Media
THROUGH THE PAST 2
8 x 32"
Mixed Media
THROUGH THE PAST 3
8 x 40"
Mixed Media
THROUGH THE PAST 4
8 x 32"
Mixed Media