You'd have to be completely crazy not to be influenced by and take from other artists. It's completely impossible not to.

Washing dishes is the anecdote to confusion. I know that for a fact.

Flowers lead to books, which lead to thinking and not thinking and then more flowers and music, music. Then many more flowers and many more books.

Soon enough it will be me struggling (valiantly?) to walk - lugging my stuff around. How are we all so brave as to take step after step? Day after day? How are we so optimistic, so careful not to trip and yet do trip, and then get up and say O.K. Why do I feel so sorry for everyone and so proud?

My sister is an artist and an interior designer. She went to high school for art. I went to high school for music.

I live in a small world of gouache and brush and pen and ink. I'd like to explore the world of multiples - etching and prints.

My workspace is defined by books, ephemera, quiet and light. I don't have a computer, telephone or a fax machine there.