I remember the moment in college when I was drawing a typewriter for an object drawing class and as I stared at the keys, they began to come alive. It became clear to me that I had a whole world hidden inside my head, a world full of organisms with their own rhythm and their own way of relating to each other. I wondered if it was healthy to live in two worlds—one experienced by no one else. How would I move back and forth between them? Eventually, simply seeing life forms, themselves, triggered organisms to morph and evolve inside my thoughts. My reactions to our biologic world continue to amaze me. Today, all organic species have become my springboard. But it isn’t surprising that this world opened up to me, since I had spent my childhood walking with my father in his garden, pollenating Daylilies and cutting open strange vegetables. Eventually, I needed to hold and feel these organisms so textiles reemerged from my past to create three dimensional work.They were an integral part of our family, passed on by my grandfather who learned tailoring after fleeing from the pogroms. Our family life was cyclical and enriched by parents and grandparents who had passion for music, books, beautiful holidays and by my other grandfather who loved to draw.

My work reflects the unique journey inside each of us and is represented by intuitive organisms that have unique characteristics collected from life’s experiences. These organisms reveal both devastating, fierce, uncontrolled energy and overwhelming swells of serenely floating calm that is inside each of us. In some pieces, the process seems unfinished, with traces of past journeys and pathways for future exploration.

When visiting the acidic, boiling springs at Yellowstone, I was overwhelmed realizing that all life on our planet share life’s cycles and the same DNA.
The experience heightened my sense of our relationship inside ourselves, to each other and to all life on our planet—from gigantic trees to microscopic mold and fungi and yes, to viruses. A digital microscope, enabled a whole world of imaginary organisms to flourish in my mind. A world of life forms that multiply from microscopic particles morph into new worlds and decay.

Life cycles reflected in the seasons continued to give me a sense of stability—until life changed. Climate Change and an unpredictable virus altered whatever order we knew in the world, damaging our sense of balance. The natural world and its cycles kept me grounded as an artist and as a person—but they’re now at risk. I find myself moving forward from a once-naive sense of security to a way of living life with hidden mysteries, searching to find freedom, joy, and stability in the essence of our lives.