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I am one in a long line of women, mothers and daughters, grandmothers and aunts, who were “makers”—seamstresses, knitters, crocheters, rugmakers and, especially, quilters. They spent their lives cutting and piecing, stitching and joining. I slept under their quilts, sat before their crocheted tablecloths, played games on the braided rugs. Of course, I wanted to do everything they did. So “making,” in a zillion forms, became central in my life, too, and love for piecing, patterns, and fitting together. The gift from the men in my life has been a love for being out in the physical world, nature, the landscape, especially hiking and backpacking, walking through woods, along beaches, up mountains. I am also a book and word nut, a voracious reader, and a former librarian. I love that I can bring all of this together in my artist books, in my landscapes, and multi-media collages. I feel as if I’m tying together strings of myself—exploring and describing some of the complexity of the world my heart inhabits. In my heart of hearts, I am still that little kid sitting on the floor who loved to color, cut, and paste, listening to the women talk while they were making something, too.

AW Collection
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