When I arrived on the sixth floor, I carried with me preconceived notions about my practice which were set in stone. On a lark, I also took Mom’s printmaking supplies and half a ream of somewhat foxed Arches Cover. It was there, after all. I might find a use for it. When I found myself actually making prints, I couldn’t help noticing that the processes crossed over. Drawing and etching seemed to be right up my alley. And, when I felt Mom right there along with me, it clinched the deal. I was ready to try anything, make mistakes and learn something new.
This is a photo that I took of a very, very, very old Honey Locust Tree on Dan’s Farm in those first halting days. I was struck by the light and texture of the image. The tree was like a huge umbrella that enveloped me in shade, while the dappled sun faeries scampered about. I hope I caught the Devil when I translated it to graphite.