Author Norman McLean wrote that he was haunted by waters.  I am haunted by textures, especially the textures of landscapes that I have known and loved. The grasslands and wheat fields of the Midwest. The hills and valleys of the Mountain West. The frothy water and ice of the Pacific Northwest, and my home state of Minnesota.

My art making draws on the tactility of fibers and serial repetition to reference cycles of nature and the nature of time. The work emerges during labor-intensive handwork as I deconstruct or fabricate my fibers, then assemble them into site-specific installations.

Fiber symbolizes for me an umbilical tether, connecting our bodies to the body in which we all live: Earth. It resonates for me as a metaphor for the barely there-ness of human existence, a mere speck etched into the timeline of infinity, growing and decaying simultaneously as each instant of time moves through our lives.

This is the way of nature. Its unceasing, undulating continuum embodies all times of being, repeated endlessly, century after century … ad infinitum. It is the story we know as the miracle of eternity.