Bio

Drawing. This is what I do. I remember driving my mother crazy looking for adequate surfaces on which to draw.   Anything would do.   The first few blank pages of books, old (or new) envelopes, the backs of whatever paper I could find (including, but not limited to, bills, receipts, report cards, etc).   Any blank spot, no matter how small, on any relatively flat piece of paper would be filled with my drawings soon after I scrounged it from the garbage or junk drawer. Margins of telephone books, storybooks, novels, all were fair game for me. I remember when my mother was in the hospital after the birth of my younger brother (and sixth sibling). This was 1968, before the days of progressive visitation policies, so my 3 sisters and 2 brothers and I were not allowed to visit. It was also back in the day when mothers were routinely kept in the hospital for a week or more after their child's birth. Naturally, we all missed our mom. My only option was to send some sort of gift with my father when he went to visit, and this, of course, would be a drawing. I was in third grade and apparently thought that the drawing should somehow reflect what I thought to be a well known biological process: digestion. So I drew a very detailed image of food entering the stomach through a series of long and winding tunnels. Each piece of food was instantly recognizable and, for some reason, still in tact, the person who was host to this bizarre scene possessing the quality of being able to ingest their food without benefit of mastication. Even more amazing, each piece of food had not only a face and limbs, but a tiny little parachute on its "back" which allowed it to float safely down to a tranquil little sea of digestive juices. Here, it was met by little broccolis, pepperonis, pieces of pie and hamburgers (buns and tomatoes still attached!) all floating languidly on their backs, some holding tiny little pina coladas!  

My drawing skills have progressed somewhat since that brief foray into medical illustration. In fact, I recently graduated from college at the age of 45. Now in possession of a BA in art from Hartwick College, I can finally call myself a "professional artist!" I still love drawing just as much as I did when I was a child. I think now though, my subject matter is just a little more believable.  

A little about the adult me: I live with my family on a small, sustainable dairy farm in the Champlain Valley of western Vermont where my husband and I milk Jersey cows. This way of life gives me a very unique perspective from which to approach art. The beauty and serenity surrounding me is all encompassing, giving me ample opportunity to be inspired. I glean ideas for potential pieces everywhere: while shooing the guinea hens out of the milking parlor; driving over Rupert Mountain to the bank; riding my bike down the rail trail; even hanging laundry on the clothes line with the foothills of the Adirondacks to the west, those of the Green Mountains to the east. Trying to capture these fleeting moments in a painting or drawing can be quite challenging. I try to keep my camera handy so that I can refer back to these images later in the comfort of my studio, when time allows. The pace of life in Vermont is like no where else. People are less rushed, less anxious, more appreciative of the goodness of simplicity, whether it is a home baked pie or a nice cream line on a glass bottle of raw Jersey milk. These are the same things that inspire me. Visit our Wayward Goose Farm Blog, to read about us and see more of my inspiration.