I’ve been an artist for over 50 years, and I am currently preparing for a retrospective show at the Meyer Vogl Gallery that spans my painting career. Coincidentally, I am also celebrating my 80th birthday.

To help you get a glimpse of who I am, I’m going to list some qualities that describe me:

I am open-minded, sensitive, kind and positive. I try to see the good in people and in life. I choose to consider challenges to be opportunities, and I enjoy the problem-solving process. I am spontaneous and embrace the unexpected. I am also easily bored with routine. I try to put fear aside and just go with the flow. I am emotional and empathetic. My paintings do not run away from the dark… Life is not always pretty and you don’t know when the sun is out unless you’ve seen the darkness. I rarely look back with regret. Nor do I look forward with expectations. I try to stay in the moment and make it the best it can be. Most importantly, I love learning. Integrating new information builds a different puzzle, a new concept for me to understand.

My images are filled with shapes and intersecting lines. They are present in some way throughout my work and have become the language with which I express myself. 

Contrast and juxtaposition excite me and bring energy to the piece. I believe that it is this energy that engages the viewer and prompts the connection with the painting.

The similarity between who I am and how I paint is obvious. It makes so much sense that I just wonder why it never occurred to me before.

Preparing for this solo retrospective show has caused me to reflect on the totality of my work. It has changed my perspective and made me clearly assess the direction that my life has taken. Rather than downplaying the success of my painting career, I now allow myself to have a sense of pride. A lot of hard work and a lot of joy gives me the license to feel good about being an artist! Now, I don’t have to hide those feelings.

The impact that my art career has had on my life cannot be measured. Creating abstract art intuitively provides a way for me to release my emotions, and therefore enables me to deal with the reality of my life.

I have faced many challenges. The most recent and devastating was the sudden loss of my wonderful husband, Sam. He was a kind and selfless gentle man who had been my safety net and incredible supporter since we met at summer camp. Needless to say, the angst that resulted was clearly felt and expressed in my paintings. 

Another major challenge was being diagnosed with psoriatic arthritis. I was in my early 20s and had two young kids at the time. Due to this diagnosis, I had to make major adjustments in the way I thought about my life. The disease was aggressively destroying my joints, especially those in my hands and feet. It was a painful and difficult time, but doing therapy with two young paraplegics helped me to figure it out. As they laughed and played around while in their wheelchairs, it was obvious that they had come to terms with a dramatic event. Somehow, they were able to still see life as pleasurable. This was a very loud statement to me. Now I realized that the quality of my life would be based on how I perceive it. I was in charge. It was clear that I had a decision to make. I chose to see the positive. Not even knowing how I was doing it, I adapted to my limitations automatically. I still cannot explain it to anyone who doesn’t understand how I’m able to paint - “I just do it.”

Although I did take some college art courses, my serious efforts began after I graduated. To my surprise, I discovered I had access to the College of Charleston studio art courses without being enrolled as a full-time student. I jumped right in. In addition, I grew on my experiences at the Art Students League of New York, as well as painting at an artist’s colony, Monhegan Island, off the coast of Maine.

Despite my passion for viewing abstracts, I didn’t understand where to begin, what to include, and when to call it a day. Too many decisions, and they overwhelmed me. As a psychology major, I was much more interested in people than in landscapes! Therefore, I gave into my insecurities and initially worked on mixed media and paintings of expressive faces. My faces were not frozen in time like a photograph. Instead, they went deeper and hinted at stories the subject preferred to keep to themselves. I used exaggeration, high contrast and fragmentation to evoke intrigue. 

My mentor was William Halsey, one of the first modern artists in the area. His willingness to take risks gave me the gift of freedom. He emphasized the importance of eliminating fear of failure, appreciating the marks that just appeared on their own, the value of mistakes and going with the flow as you keep your eyes open during the painting process. 

Over time I found my style - when I paint abstractly, it is spontaneous and intuitive. I do not adhere to arbitrary rules or boundaries that limit my options. Although I still enjoy gestural figure drawing and painting, the majority of my work is abstract.

The process of expressing my inner thoughts abstractly is joyous.

During this process, I often feel the softening of my grip against the brush. I would have thought that giving up some of my control would make me uncomfortable. On the contrary, accepting my vulnerability and losing my fear, fills me with a sense of calm. I believe that this transition releases a spark of energy that propels the painting forward. I am now aware that I have a partner - the evolving painting has joined me, and with a dynamic dialogue, we will navigate the challenge of our journey. Together, we will tell our story.

I also feel that it is this unfiltered and totally honest expression that engages the observer, and gives them the courage to personally connect with the painting. They are now comfortable seeing the painting through their own eyes and from their own perspective.

The painting is now complete.