I did not draw as many young children do. Mud Pies! Now that is where I excelled, out under the trees. Rocks, flowers, and sticks were design materials for decoration. Baked by the sun, and forgotten.

 

Years passed. I married an artist. Four children arrived. They could draw; I could not. Finally hands asked for creative activity. I remembered Mud Pies. Classes in ceramics began. Hands loved the clay.

 

Husband gave me a book “History of Modern Sculpture” by Reid. Wonder was born by Brancusi’s “Bird in Space.” Could I possibly find a way to create meaning in so simple a form?

 

Husband died. A short time later I found myself in a sculpture class. What was I doing there? I could not draw. Hands were happy when the teacher had us begin rasping on a soft stone.

 

My interest has always been centered on the “Hidden side of Nature” - Life within the form. My first real sculpture was a pile of rocks in one form. People stopped asking me to draw.

 

Inspiration has come from many places: a sculptor in a novel, great teachers, books, videos, Ichida’s “Roundness of Horizon” at the U. of O. museum, and the discovery of NWSSA symposia.

 

The last time I was at Camp Brotherhood I told Boris Spivak I could not draw. He stood at the table, pointed at me and said: “You do draw. You draw on your stone.”

 

Life is complete, and I’m still learning.