[ 1936 - 2004 ]

I was born in Holladay, Utah at a time when it was referred to as being “out in the sticks.” I would walk across the street, down through my neighbor’s back yard, and go wading in Spring Creek. I didn’t need to take off my shoes; they were already off. Just up from my grandmother’s home was Indian Rock above Wasatch Boulevard. I could climb up there and look over the whole valley as the sun beat off my face and the wind cooled my body. In the summers, before air-conditioning, my dad would come home from work, pile us all in the car and drive us up to Church Fork in East Millcreek Canyon to cool off. We would have dinner there and not come home until after sunset when the valley had begun to cool off.

Being so close to nature as a child has truly influenced my artwork as an adult. Going barefoot all summer, playing outside from early morning to late at night when we had kicked the last can, has left me with the innate desire to stay in touch with the earth and earth forms. I feel most at home out in the open, close to the source.

At twenty, I married a pilot. During our marriage we traveled by airplane and sports car around the country. After his death, when I began painting abstracts, it was in my seventies that I sought out my own identity and went through the process of grieving.