Like many women, my earliest aesthetic experiences were those involving interior decoration. I was fascinated with the narrative and repetitive patterns, in the homes of my extended family, that were furnished with modular sofas, blonde coffee tables and sputnik inspired lampshades. Linoleum tiles, draperies, bedspreads, rugs and shower curtains were bedecked with atomic-age shapes that are now ingrained in my visual lexicon. The process of arranging and rearranging objects, whether in my home, my installation projects or as a curator, is a compulsory means to achieve order and harmony in the spaces around me and also in my own head.
Over the years, I have made drawings and sculptures, whose elemental forms represent something both primitive and futuristic, akin to the design motifs of the mid-century modernism of my childhood. Materials used in my artwork are often timeworn domestic things, acquired from thrift stores, flea markets or castoffs from the side of the road. In this regard, I see my role partially as cultural hunter/gatherer. Without a preconceived plan for my assembled pieces, I rely on chance arrangements that come from observing and feeling and an interest in the past of the objects I’m working with.
