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'I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.' - Anne Lamott


This collage wall represents more than just a wall covering. It was a beginning, but of course I couldn’t have recognized it at the time, almost 15 years ago.


This shot was taken in our guest room shortly after we were married. The quiet room was tucked in the trees on the second floor of our modern masterpiece that we designed and built together and was proud to call home. With no children at the time, just a loving, neurotic Weimaraner named Pepper, we spent weekends working on design projects. Our vision for the guest room was pure and simple--white. Something serene. But it yearned for texture. Aaron proposed a project that was inspired by my English literature background fueled by a passion for books. 


On my warm summer birthday, we culled through boxes of paperbacks worn with years of reading and full of undecipherable notes and pages aged by use and time. In some ways it felt blasphemous to tear apart something so dear to me, so instrumental in my education and upbringing and the shaping of my values and world view today. In other ways, I felt at home, at peace with my books, with knowing that they would live in a new way. That they would welcome our guests with stories and markings and a warmth that white paint could not deliver. 


More than a decade later, that’s how I feel about my art. I look for the most loved books, the ones showing the greatest age and discoloring, and in those pages I find endless beauty that transforms my work. 


As we shelter in place and I mourn seeming normalcy and a routine that has been disrupted, I welcome the re-seeing and innovation that comes from having to work harder to create and the true connections that have resulted from reaching out in vulnerable times to other artists who have the same desire to create and connect.

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