I have always been a scavenger

From a young age I enjoyed going to garage sales, antique stores and secondhand fairs. There's something about the thrill of discovering an object that has a history of its own that resonates with me. My scavenging has included everything from natural materials to things tossed on the side of the road to seeking elusive treasures online. I’ve collected Queen Anne’s lace and Goldenrod from overgrown roadways, spied out four leaf clovers to press and save. For a special birthday of my step-moms, I created a bracelet of 18 vintage sterling Silver puff heart charms from the 1940s, one each bearing either the name or initials of my dad, her children and their 14 grandchildren. The thrill of the hunt kept me up sometimes until 2 AM going down eBay and Etsy rabbit holes. But oh the sweet satisfaction once it was complete!

On the beach, I search and scan the strandlines for sea glass or particularly beautiful bits of rock, broken shell and driftwood. I hearken back to predawn walks by myself or afternoon walks with my mom… quietly searching for that surprise find. I taught my children early on about the ability to find treasure if you search carefully at ocean’s edge. There is something magical about the ocean, over years and years, taking dangerous glass shards of discards carelessly tossed in the ocean, and softening and frosting them before tossing them up on the beach as treasure. Fifty odd years in and I continue to thrill to the hunt and experience gratitude and excitement for every precious find.

Walking on trails or in my neighborhood I search for eggshells in the spring and bird and wasp nests in the fall, for rusty metal bits in the street and gutter. Bits of shell and nest find their way into my work. Rusted pieces are collaged or used to stain silk and paper. Composed, integrated and hand stitched, these little bits and pieces mark moments in my life when I was present, curious, alert and aware of my surroundings. I've spoken before about how found and worn objects resonate with me and bring their own histories with them when I use them in my work. My mind is perpetually thinking about repurposing, reusing — imagining alternative uses for these bits of ephemera to which I am drawn. I think about what I value. What resonates with me and why and how at times I can’t explain nor understand what it touches within. Looking, scavenging, searching motivate me to pay attention, stay present, to envision possibility around every corner.

Layering history

I am a human magpie but instead of collecting sparkly bits I am attracted to worn surfaces and evidence of lives lived, history embedded within objects. Sometimes these collections will sit in my studio for years. Little by little, they speak to me, and ideas start to bubble forth as to how to weave them into my work. As I stain and stitch, burn and compose, it occurs to me that these objects I create will in turn become my mark, be evidence of the life that I have lived, to be experienced and deciphered later in time.

Subscribe to receive email updates for new blog posts