Much of my work springs from love of music, rhythm and dance. When I make something, there is a constant dance between my eyes and my hands; between my vision, however unformed, and the part of me that says, "Move it over a little bit, that doesn't feel right yet."

The first stroke of the brush, the first move -- in whatever medium -- sets up limitations that need resolution, demand further and further choices; until, in the end, there are no further choices to make and my eye is satisfied. What this satisfaction is I cannot say, but once committed to that first mark, I am compelled to follow the process to the end. Maybe "compelled" is the wrong word. It is more like trying to solve a mystery or learning the steps to a new dance.

Between the moves toward resolution of the piece and the striving to be non-judgmental about choices, there is created the field of action where a fine thing, worthy of other peoples' attention, might (with work and inspiration) be created.

I write to share stories, impressions and ideas. I write poetry because I love the music of language, the cadencies of blank verse and the satisfaction of happy couplets. Poetry of personal pain has no interest for me; neither do I seek to be obscure. My wish is that anyone reading my voice will feel that something of positive value has been received. To touch another human heart is a big thing.