This spring I temporarily shifted my studio quarters from a beautiful space at Waltham Mills to a 30” x 42” drafting table in my living room. My Waltham Mills studio supports large and messy work and includes an etching press; my living room, not so much. Circumstances called for a change of scale and direction, and I found it in drawing and a return to the medium of book-making, which first engaged me over 25 years ago. This new work began in handmade sketchbooks and has been developing through free-standing book structures into forms that are more and more sculptural. It is fascinating to discover each piece as I work on it; usually it becomes something quite different from what it started out to be. Sometimes the spaces I am making seem like they could be monumental in scale and made of materials other than paper; it is intriguing to imagine being able to walk around inside them.
The process is a joyful one, a pathway of discovery and an antidote to the devastation of the pandemic and the toxic social, political, and emotional period we are living in. I am in learning mode, taking online classes and being nourished by great mentors and the company of fellow students. I miss my big studio and my colleagues, and at the same time I have become very attached to the safe and intimate space that has been the foundation of a new kind of practice.