An artist and collector’s journey

My grandmother Flora was a world traveler and collector. She and her family made one of the first around the world cruises after World War II. No wonder her son, my dad, traveled far to Thailand for his wife – and dragged us all around military family style. I’ve inherited Flora’s love of fashion and style, of beautiful things, of travel, of collecting. And having had such a nomadic childhood I really appreciate home and what makes it special.

When you’re mobile, collecting photographs becomes one of the few obsessions you can take on the road. I love my camera, the darkroom, and messing with the image. Straight photography I could appreciate, but not love. I’ve tortured my negatives and prints over the years: scratching, burying them in earth, dipping them in chemical baths, stains, dyes. The methods have changed, I do some digital now as well, but the beautiful final image is still my goal – no matter what the medium for the photo.

And often, through collage, the photo becomes a way to share a window on my obsessive collecting. A friend who once had the sweetest bakery in an old railroad car, made a delicious red velvet cake for my birthday, and, as an afterthought, gave me a little bag of plastic animals to decorate it. I put them in my pocket and forget them until one day I found them and saw – the little critters had tons of personality! The rest, as they say, is history. Along with my favorite watertowers, cars, NY architecture, my menagerie works on paper and canvas have quickly become popular favorites.

Less mobile now I’ve grown fond of domestic pleasures. I garden on my Brooklyn roof, make art there in the summer, and it’s where I also wash, dye, card and spin yarn. If I could, I’d keep a mini flock of miniature goats and sheep there too! What a sight that would be for tourists walking across the Brooklyn Bridge. My home is a nest and a laboratory – where even I am surprised sometimes by what I cook up.