Who can remember the first time they felt the
thrill of creating something that was their own? Why was it so important
to have that crayon masterpiece receive the place of honor on the
refrigerator door? The need to create has always been a driving force for
me. The creative process is where I become totally focused, elated,
frustrated, and alive.
During many years of study,
I have had the opportunity to try a variety of media: oil painting,
printmaking, ceramics, etc; but several years ago, when I began working
with pastels, it felt like coming home. I was seduced by having an array
of luscious colors at my fingertips. I loved the immediacy of picking up a
piece of color and putting it down on the page. I loved the tactile
connection I had with the work and began to notice that my own energy and
emotions seemed to be coming through even though it was not a conscious
effort on my part.
My work really has two
components: One is the spiritual connection the outdoors holds for me. I
am enamored of the sights and sounds of nature: the patterns, the rhythms,
the textures, and the almost tangible quality of the light. The other is
my enchantment with color. It fascinates me that a certain hue can change
depending upon how it is surrounded. I love the richness of deep tones
used together. I love the emotion of bright vivid explosions of color and
the subtleties of combining softer hues, closely related in value. One
mark goes down on the page, which determines the next, and then the next.
Gradually, the piece emerges. Sometimes when I stand back from my easel,
to see the work in its totality, I am surprised by my own creation. It's
as though at some point, the work takes on a life of its own. For me, that
is the magic of the creative process.