My marvelous New York mother made beauty for me. I long to mimic her. She was a peerless tailor who adorned me in coats that far surpassed our meager income. She continued to explore and expand: knitting, painting, quilting. She loved fabric first, fiber second. Though she worked outside our home, still she managed to create many wonderful things.



She taught me to crochet, though it was not something she did. I crocheted from preteens on, making hats for self and guy friends and rekindling my love of fiber in the early 90s. I explored dimensional crochet, creating a flower coat for her. And not to leave my father out, he taught me to use a hammer, soldering iron, screw driver and to assemble things. When I lost my mother, my griefwork was handmade paper and glassmaking. A poet at a loss for words, I began to make paper from scratch, from plants I gathered and the later, grew.



In glass I studied many techniques, settling on flameworking, kilncasting and sandcasting for my work. Glasswork lead me to wire and recent physical challenges return me to crochet. I lost the ability to walk or stand on November 14, 2005.



Thanks for looking and listening.