For as long as I can remember, I have been driven to create, and doing so brings joy to my life. Whether it is art, cooking, or writing,  I need to make something: colorful quilts, delicious food, or engaging stories. My goal as an artist is for the viewer to experience beauty, curiosity, and surprise; and to feel compelled to keep looking for new things. Because I strive to conceive new and interesting textures, I am pleased when someone sees my work and immediately reaches out to touch it.

            My methods are primarily intuitive.  I rarely begin with sketches or plans, but rather with a vision in my mind. As I work, I listen for the  medium to tell me what it wants to be. Quilt?  Collage?  Sculpture? Colors find their way to their partners. Shapes become organic, geometric, or a combination. Eventually, the composition evolves, usually abstract in form and contemporary in style. Many of my ideas come from the colors and textures in nature. I am also inspired by the art of Dale Chihuly and that of my sister, acrylic artist Janice Pluma (www.janicepluma.com).

            At a very young age, I was influenced by my mother to transform everyday found objects into something they were not originally intended to be. I did not know then that I was gaining experience that would lead to the conception of mixed-media art. While all of my work includes some element of textiles in the form of fabric, thread, paper, natural fibers, etc., my study of other media is endless. Sewing is combined with paint, wire, clay, rusted metal, plastic, or some distressed "junk" found on the street while riding my bicycle. Further, I have recently begun to incorporate needle felting and weaving into my designs, as well as melted synthetics. As my journey progresses, I see my art becoming more layered, tactile, and three-dimensional.

            As a predominantly self-taught artist, my exploration of various materials has also been a  process of learning about the principles of design and elements of art. I have found that experimentation can be risky, but often rewarding as I push the boundaries of what works. It also satisfies my desire to be a lifelong learner and to create art that is unique and ever-changing.

            Because of my spontaneous process, my workspace is always in a state of flux. There are many pieces in progress at once, and I have perpetual stores of scraps, trinkets, and curios that I can't bear to throw away. My husband (a right-brained engineer), affectionately calls my studio "the war room." I don't mind, because I am totally at peace there.