I grew up in rural Ohio surrounded by rolling green hills, farms, and coal mines. There wasn’t much to do there so I daydreamed quite a bit. I did take dance lessons, learned to sew in a 4H club, and took up the flute in grade school. I imagined I would be a writer after I got a letter from “Nancy Drew” author Carolyn Keene. I knew I’d be a photographer when I saw the texture and shapes of a snow-covered tree trunk through the lens of my first camera.
My greatest artistic influence was my mother Hazel. She found beauty in the simplest things (a weed bouquet in a hand-blown glass vase) and called my attention to the little things (the bittersweet growing along the roadside or the feel of textured fabric in my winter coat). She and my father Ernest grew as collectors of antique glass and pottery, passing on an appreciation of their craftsmanship and beautiful forms and colors.
My work is about making sense of life, a sorting out of experiences and attendant emotions. Since life seems so complicated, I’m drawn to distilling my images down to essential elements. I try to give tangibility to those sacred, invisible things that live deep inside my heart (everyone’s heart really) and are often manifested in nature.
The physicality of photographs and the creation of a handmade object are important. I like touching the paper when I’m working, brushing on the chemicals, washing the paper, applying metal leaf or pigments. I like experimenting with process and materials to find a way that feels right in expressing an emotion or telling a story.
My photographs are an offering and my hope that I will leave something behind for someone else that is beautiful and meaningful and lasting, and that we might feel a connection to each other.