I am interested in creating a rich layering of sources: a poetic language where systems of generation and communication are fused to form new languages, continuing to use the tools of the mixed media formats of painting, photography and installation. I am looking to reveal the fractal mirroring of roots, veins, minerals and bone, incorporating multiple layers to reveal the interplay between various life forms representing the cycles of life, death, and rebirth in both our physical and metaphysical worlds.

My work refers to the history of the luminous surface and investigates what it means today, especially since the backlit screen dominates our vision. My attention is on the transformation of common materials by using light and color. I imagine many of the other creatives on this platform have considered the importance of transformation.

After a few years, a seed and then a seedling and finally a sapling rose from Alice’s ashes. I waited each year for the bud to come and then bloom. And it was not a flame tree, with its fiery leaves, but a cherry tree, small with red twigs and in the summer cherries the red of toy soldiers and flowers of white. I ate a cherry each year and each year it was sour and pulpy, its skin hard and thin. Each year I planted one in our backyard which was wild with blueberry bushes and pale blue forget-me-nots overgrown and tangled. We had stopped tending the garden. To tend was to care and mother preferred the lawn unruly, the flowers blown.

We are all creations, human be--ings who are connected to one another and in tune with the Universe. Uni--Verse. One Voice. We mirror one another and our reflections enable us to see who we are to ourselves as well as one another. Our creative expressions, also mirrors;, enable us to empathize to better understand ourselves and the world around us.

In the beginning was the word and it was borne on the breath of Spirit. Just how that spark of spirit is born within us, how it is nurtured by our impressions, sculpted into phrases, how it is shaped-- its rhythm and language-- remains unknown. At what moment does it slip from our lips, does it flow as a river from our hearts, ink from our minds. How exactly does it unfold on that brilliant horizon, that full moon of revelation.