From a very young age art excited me in an important way. No one in my family was an artist, though there was plenty of singing, and a typical spare Tuscan aesthetic sense surrounded us all. When I was 7, I was awarded a scholarship to the children’s art program at Carnegie Mellon University/Carnegie Museum, where for the next decade I spent Saturday mornings drawing dinosaurs, artifacts, and copying masters. My favorite spot to draw was in the Hall of Sculptures: Egyptian, Near Eastern, Greek, and Roman sculptures displayed in a majestic space, which gave me the sensation of being very small and alive while being enveloped in the presence of whiteness and time. I think experiencing that room instilled a love for antiquities.
I can’t help but think we all know we are artists by the time we’re 4 or 5. We feel like outsiders, witnesses, people who respond to color, to sounds, breath, perhaps to past lives. That awareness compelled me to learn the skills--and be good at them--that I would need to create a life in the arts: draw, write, sculpt. Later, I studied filmmaking. I got degrees, I found mentors, I apprenticed with artisans in Italy.
Both in writing and my visual art: inspiration starts with a snapshot image and a question. For example: A dream about opening my husband’s ribcage provoked my (many) torso series. I saw the torso opening, like a book. Inside were lights and words--not organs, not blood. A universe inside. Is this where might we carry stories and secrets? What is imprinted on the interior surface of flesh?
BA. University of Pittsburgh
MFA Boston University
Studies with Italian artisans ( painting, mask-making, dry-point, & cartapesta) in Rome, Venice and Lecce, Italy.