“The work of your heart is the work of the world’s heart. There is no other art.” I have reflected on that single line since Alison Luterman published her poem Invisible Work. What would it mean if my work were connected to the heart of the world? Those words left an imprint on me and I followed them as if following the tracks of an animal and I longed to actually experience what the words meant. But like grace, this is not something one simply makes happen; it’s something that is given.  And as I went deeper into my art, I began to learn this.

Since childhood, making beauty out of found objects has drawn me.  I am a collector. I gather nests, eggs, feathers, red rocks, pine cones, heart-shaped stones, yellow leaves and seed pods. When I travel, these are the things that follow me home. In the last decade, I’ve begun to experience moments while gathering where, suddenly, the world around me grows soft and shimmery and I feel connected to everything. I had no language for this experience until I started painting and then I understood it as love.

Many people have said that creating is a way of loving. And this is what my art is about. If I don’t love the work or the process of creating the work, it is flat and without meaning. When the experience of love opens, I know I am in the realm of the world’s heart. This is what I seek as an artist. How or when this will happen is always unknown. But this dance with the unknown is one way I say YES to what life wants; to how life wants to express itself through me.