THE WORK:
My obsession-my subject-has always been tribal: Native
American, African, and now, of course, Indigenous Hawaiian. There is an authenticity, a purity of being-something
raw, natural. I am utterly passionate about the sacred quality of a pose. My art is
an act of discovery - a necessary surrender to outcome. I search for the real – my people have to
be in their element. A pretty face? I couldn’t care less.
THE MEDIUM:
I work solely in red clay.
The color resonates with me, and with the skin tones of the aboriginals. It is of the earth.
But it is more than that. I need to have grit, a texture I can manipulate. White
clay doesn’t grip; I slide over that surface. It feels like wearing gloves.
THE PHILOSOPHY:
There is in my relationship
to my work this: That single moment you want to embrace – like the mother and child – and then
it is (they are) gone. I snap my fingers – the moment is gone. My sculpture represents
those moments we cannot hold onto. To me, that is what is most sacred – the fleeting
connection of souls.
THE LIFE:
My only daughter (now 30) was born deaf.
All communication for her entire life has been visual: Lip reading and sign language.
And now because her disease is progressively blinding Heather – it is tactile. Since Heather
entered my life, my entire world had to be tangible – visual and kinesthetic. I became a professional
mime because I wanted to be expressive for my daughter. I studied reflexology because I think the most
intimate part of relating to a person is touching the soles of their feet. Daily, I interpret for deaf
children in the Kaua’i public schools. The visual and tactile necessity has always been a part of
me – but it didn’t emerge until my daughter was born. Until Heather, it was silent within me.
My sculpture is its fulfillment.
THE PLACE:
I was born, reared, and
lived my entire life in Detroit, Michigan. My husband and I moved to Kaua’i in January, 2007 –
away, for the first time, from family and lifelong friends. My work has deepened in large part owing to
that separation. I have poured that sense of loss into my work. My sculpture represents
an effort to bridge loss. Though I always lived in a city, I kept the essential part of me alive through
my love of nature. On Kaua’i, nature just becomes you – I’d never experienced that before,
I would never again want to settle for anything less.
