Without Words      As early back in my life as I can remember, I could let myself essentially disappear, into the process of making art.  I didn't know, until I was an adult, that I was practicing a form of meditation - taking my body, mind, and spirit to a place of oneness.  This is where I would (and still do) return when the world around me became too violent, too chaotic, too exciting, or just simply too much.  Art is my practice, my prayer, my inner peace; the process of creating is my breath, my heart beat, my pathway to truth.  4.5" x 4.5" x 2"	This work has taken on a clearer form of visual meditation, for me.  There is a cadence, a rhythm, a hypnotic repetition to the process.  The results could be perceived as boring, by the viewer - the way the idea of "just sitting" is too tedious for some - but upon slowing down and taking a closer look, my hope is that more will be seen, and felt.  As I scribe I feel I am hearing ancient voices, foreign prayers, and reading sacred texts which I am viewing from behind what is visible through my body's eyes: words in a language I do not fully comprehend.  The process of rendering these patterns, characters, and calligraphic texts, takes me outside of myself, into a strange unknown land - one of reverence, very personal, and deeply in need of a witness. Within the box is a collection of hand sewn books.  Each booklet is 4" x 4" with 10 pages. The paper I used is tracing paper, so that the writing from following pages can be seen and the designs play upon each other. The text is a made up calligraphy that flows from me in a kind of meditative state.
Mixed Up Media 5" x 4" x 4"	Add your content here

X	This book is 30"x 36" when fully open as seen above. spacer   Add your content here Add your content here space space space spcae space spcae
BONE NEST with handmade book 6" x 4" x 5"	(poem I wrote and    printed in book) These bones once smothered beneath the layers of fat, flesh, muscle encased and aching to separate and free to flee, to rattle click to dry, harden, bleach warming in the sun having been picked clean by passers by then tossed, kicked left to lie upon the sand between the rocks washed clean by salty waves.

Where I teach	Silvermine Artist's Guild	Book Arts Links