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photo by Teresa Rafidi

When I was a child, my mother often read books to my brothers and me. But when we were sick, she brought out something special: poetry, most often the works of Robert Frost. There was magic in those words…as she sat by my bedside and read, fevers were cured, comfort was given, chills went away. Over the years, the unconscious conscience of those memories has permeated my works in both titles and themes. The most efficient presentation of language, poetry is comforting and non-utilitarian, allowing for the beauty of self-awareness, of self-expression, of a universal whole. Poetry has been my muse, a way of getting to that artistic place where the world is lost, the body is left behind, and there is only the mind.

My current work acknowledges and celebrates a path of self-revelation with nature as a metaphor for life, walking, as did Frost, through fields of fodder.