Hand Embroidery on Silk Gauze mounted on Vintage Table Mirror - Wool, Silk and Metallic Fiber.

This embroidery on mirror was inspired by my photograph of a mannequin taken in 2019 at the Chanel store window on Bond Street in London.  I wanted to challenge myself to create something “real” from an inspiration that was so obviously “fake.”

As I worked on this piece, I concluded that the original source for the mannequin (and the other mannequins in the same display) was, without a doubt, the President’s daughter.  

Whether this was done as a subtle form of flattery to Ms. Trump or to aspirationally encourage those who admire her, I have no way of knowing, and this ambiguity only adds to the mystery of the piece.

What interested me was to find the artistic alchemy between real and fake, model and mannequin, Trump and Trump l’oiel. This work documents Donald Trump’s own “golden calf;” a false idol used by its creator as an object of worship and distraction.

Like all of my embroidered mirrors, this image also invites viewers to examine their own reflection as they scrutinize their own image next to the image of the calf.

       I was surprised to be so delighted by the BBC TV series “Fleabag.”  Phoebe Waller Bridge captures something very essential about the female experience in her writing and portrayal of the completely flawed lead character, and the role has made her an “overnight” icon for imperfect women everywhere.  For me, the most cathartic scene by far was when Fleabag, dressed in a chic evening gown, stood gazing at herself in a very elegant powder room mirror while examining  her bloody, just punched face.

         The most remarkable aspect of this scene is how Bridge plays it as if being socked in the nose were just another thing she was expecting that evening, like being offered a dessert by a waiter as her plate was removed.  As they struggle with transitioning from the optimism of youth to the reality of life in their thirties, I think many women come to expect life is not necessarily going to go their way, and Fleabag’s expression in that moment captures that feeling superbly.           Since the quarantining of the world due to the Corona Virus outbreak, this image has only become more relatable as people in developed countries feel like they have taken a similar blow.  We know we will recover and be fine, but we are not too sure (as we examine the damage in the mirror) that there won’t be some kind of nasty scarring.           This piece incorporates a vanity tray mirror which can sit flat on a horizontal surface or be displayed on a sturdy easel.

       I was surprised to be so delighted by the BBC TV series “Fleabag.”  Phoebe Waller Bridge captures something very essential about the female experience in her writing and portrayal of the completely flawed lead character, and the role has made her an “overnight” icon for imperfect women everywhere.  For me, the most cathartic scene by far was when Fleabag, dressed in a chic evening gown, stood gazing at herself in a very elegant powder room mirror while examining  her bloody, just punched face.

         The most remarkable aspect of this scene is how Bridge plays it as if being socked in the nose were just another thing she was expecting that evening, like being offered a dessert by a waiter as her plate was removed.  As they struggle with transitioning from the optimism of youth to the reality of life in their thirties, I think many women come to expect life is not necessarily going to go their way, and Fleabag’s expression in that moment captures that feeling superbly.
          Since the quarantining of the world due to the Corona Virus outbreak, this image has only become more relatable as people in developed countries feel like they have taken a similar blow.  We know we will recover and be fine, but we are not too sure (as we examine the damage in the mirror) that there won’t be some kind of nasty scarring.
          This piece incorporates a vanity tray mirror which can sit flat on a horizontal surface or be displayed on a sturdy easel.

In every movie are moments where we, the audience relate in some way to the characters on screen. Whether positively or negatively, these fleeting relationships with characters and the stars who play them are what keep us coming back, to sit in darkened theaters (or with remotes in our hands), silent but catching on to things that are often too difficult or complex to articulate in everyday conversation. With only an expression, cinematic images help us to “put our finger on” important but often fleeting thoughts and feelings.

In the movie “Gaslight,’ Ingrid Bergman’s Paula realizes that she has given over her life to a murderer who duped her into believing that she was crazy, simply because she questioned things that did not make sense. My portrait of Paula is focused on that explosive moment. In her angry, hooded eye stare, Bergman exemplifies what it means to be lied to and to have lived one’s life based on that lie.  

Since that movie’s release, the word “Gaslight” has taken on a very specific cultural meaning, and has become prominent in our lexicon, particularly since the rise of partisan reporting, both officially and in never ending “news” feeds on social media. In my Portrait of Paula, I invite the viewer to look not only into Ingrid’s eyes, but to also examine their own visage in the mirrored surface surrounding her, looking closely at both the lies they have been on the receiving end of, as well as their own culpability at the contemporary cultural gaslighting that occurs as information and misinformation is spread.

Silk hand Embroidery mounted on Found Object (antique mirror).

In “The Bride of Frankenstein,” the bride is created as a device for use by Frankenstein’s Monster. She is reanimated by the God - Like “creator” for no other reason than to complete a set, like graveside salt and pepper shakers, and she appears to have no use other than to stand, silent and wide eyed beside her mate. 

In the publicity still I used as inspiration for my portrait, the Bride, applying lipstick to her death masque, exemplifies our society’s continued insistence that a woman’s first value is in how she looks. What was true in old Hollywood remains true in our current visually supercharged society: How you look (still) matters most of all. 

Rarely do you see a female face on Instagram that is not shot from the “best” angle, with lipstick applied and hair meticulously arranged. My mirrored portrait invites contemplation both of the vacuous silliness of the Bride’s touch up, and of our own faces reflected just over her shoulder. For those who did not read this first - Did you adjust your look (duck lips, a hair toss, a dropped chin, etc.) the moment you saw yourself in the mirror?

When distractedly flipping channels in the comfort of our easy chairs, Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Birds” seems to be little more than a quaint shocker set at a time when even ladies in danger wore pearls and stockings and eyes were plucked with restrained delicacy.  

But viewed through the lens of the climate crisis, Hitchcock’s strange entertainment is suddenly, ominously prescient.

“The Birds, a Portrait of Melanie” is taken from the phone booth scene where our heroine “hides” in a phone booth, passively looking through a clear glass screen while the world is destroyed around her. She waits for the hero she is certain will notice and save her, but makes no move other to watch in demure horror (with only a single lock of hair artfully out of place) at each escalating scene of destruction.

Framed by a mirror with ominous avian sentinels, our observation of Melanie is also an observation of ourselves and, perhaps, our own culpability in the blazing summers, rising oceans and freakishly strong storms and tornadoes.  Like the caged bird that was carried away in the escape car at the end of the film, the fecund seeds and nest may inspire the hope of new life or a sense of doom at what may be an inevitable and irreversible change.

          In the 1934 film “Of Human Bondage,” Bette Davis plays a manipulative waitress who takes full advantage of the disabled medical student who falls in love with her, keeping him on the string while she constantly hunts for richer men to marry who are closer to heart attack age.   Each scene reveals an escalation of Mildred’s outrageous behavior, and any sympathy the audience feels turns to scorn as she slides down the slippery slope to the world’s oldest profession, just before her dramatic and repulsive death.  
            It can be painful to realize that one’s youth is gone.  The mirror no longer shows the promise of a life ahead, rather it shows the marks of a life that has been lived.  As Mildred examines herself in the mirror, perhaps she is thinking about the costs of the choices that she has made.  Her looks are fading, she is tired and poor, and there is no soft pillow on which to lay her head.  
           But were those choices really choices, or were they simply Mildred’s responses to the poor circumstances over which she had no control?  As you consider Mildred’s fate, please also consider the choices you might have made had you, like Mildred, been born poor, with little education and only your looks and pluck to make your way in the world - Should you be judged?  Should she?  Should anyone?

          In the 1934 film “Of Human Bondage,” Bette Davis plays a manipulative waitress who takes full advantage of the disabled medical student who falls in love with her, keeping him on the string while she constantly hunts for richer men to marry who are closer to heart attack age.   Each scene reveals an escalation of Mildred’s outrageous behavior, and any sympathy the audience feels turns to scorn as she slides down the slippery slope to the world’s oldest profession, just before her dramatic and repulsive death.  
            It can be painful to realize that one’s youth is gone.  The mirror no longer shows the promise of a life ahead, rather it shows the marks of a life that has been lived.  As Mildred examines herself in the mirror, perhaps she is thinking about the costs of the choices that she has made.  Her looks are fading, she is tired and poor, and there is no soft pillow on which to lay her head.  
           But were those choices really choices, or were they simply Mildred’s responses to the poor circumstances over which she had no control?  As you consider Mildred’s fate, please also consider the choices you might have made had you, like Mildred, been born poor, with little education and only your looks and pluck to make your way in the world - Should you be judged?  Should she?  Should anyone?

In the 1951 film “A place in the Sun,” 19 year old Elizabeth Taylor was a sensation playing the chaste, virginal beauty that Montgomery Clift wanted badly enough to kill for.  Taylor’s Angela Vickers was every man’s fantasy of the perfect “good” girl - stunningly beautiful, quiet and compliant; always wafting atomic innocence that you knew had been saved just for you.  

After her marriage to Richard Burton, Liz tired of playing sweet innocents and sought out more mature roles like Maggie in “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,” and Kate in “The Taming of the Shrew,” thinking that these parts would help her audience see her as a great actress playing nuanced, multi dimensional female leads.  

But the audience was not interested in nuance.  Madonna or Whore, Virgin or Slut, Juicy Young Peach or Shriveled Old Hag - those were the “types” that women were allowed to inhabit; and the cultural rules allowed, and still allow only the absolute.  If people, and that includes female people, have many different emotions and sides to their personalities and characters, why do we box them in the extremes?

Two perpetually separated sides of women are revealed in “The Shrewing of the Tame.”  Elizabeth the Good and Elizabeth the Bitch - always back to back, always distinctly in opposition.  As you examine the embroidery, I invite you to pause for a moment of self reflection, as well, considering questions like which “type” are you?  Who told you that?  Have you assigned labels to others?  What labels have you assigned to yourself?

The “back” side of Elizabeth... or is this one the front?

A hand picks up a needle and embroiders another hand, and, with each iteration and addition of character, we see that what is inside of each hand is the same: bone, muscle, and the creative need of nimble fingers to make their mark on others and on the world. An intensely personal statement on the expressive quality of needle and thread, this piece celebrates all of my “sisters in stitch.”

Frida Kahlo loved Diego Rivera, and I love her. My loving homage to the original selfie queen, my portrait of Frida is rendered entirely by hand with delicate strands of silk and metallic fiber. The crewel embroidery is layered in the manner of a glazed oil painting as a way of following (in fiber) the techniques Ms. Kahlo used in creating her own iconic oil portraits. Her hair is crowned with a bouquet of dimensional stump work flowers, further adding to the life like effect of the work.

This detail shows the stump embroidery technique I used in creating my portrait of Frida. The flowers are truly dimensional, and advance about 1/2" from the surface of the painting.
Frida Khalo inspires me by the complex body of work she left behind, and by the way she created that work in response to the tumult of her life. When faced with physical and emotional obstacles, Frida did not shrink, but instead attacked her problems with her paintbrush. Like Frida, I use a needle as my weapon, drawing it with the same passion and fight that I imagine Ms. Khalo felt. The art left behind is simply a byproduct of the creative life’s victory over sorrow.

Frida created her iconic self portraiture as a way of alleviating the pain she felt throughout her adult life; this positive, unvarnished and productive way of coping has guided my own practice of self healing through the making of art. In all of my work, I begin by asking myself a few fundamental questions: what if the paintbrush had never been invented? What if pigment and oil had never been mixed? How ELSE might the great artists have made their mark? In this piece I added: What might have happened if Frida had picked up an embroidery hoop instead of a paintbox? What could she have done with a needle and thread that might have added to the way she saw herself? Would she, too, have anointed her own head with a dimensional flower crown?
I use my work as a foil to converse with the greats (Van
I use my work as a platform to converse with the greats (Van Gogh, Khalo, Lichtenstein, Dali, etc.) about how, working together, we could spend the day NOT painting, but using the lowly tools that were there all along. What might Frida have made if she had contemporaneously reframed the artistic hierarchy?

Hand stitched entirely with individual crewel French knots, this crying Harvey Girl sums up how many women (and a few men) were feeling in 2018, as the world was swept into the honest reckoning of the me too movement. Texans may feel differently about the piece, which was stitched (in part) during the costal deluge caused by hurricane Harvey. A pointillist portrait of the anguish felt by all of the Harvey Girls of 2017, this work has been described as Georges Seurat meets Roy Lichtenstein. Made up of thousands of individual French knots, this "girl" is the first in a series of women expressing the anxieties of our age.

Based on Van Gogh's Self-Portrait with Grey Felt Hat (1887/88), my hand embroidered crewel wool portrait of Vincent features the great artist in a dimensional (wired) stump work hat that protrudes about one inch from the support.

Suzanne Valadon was a badass woman and artist before women could be badass artists. The illegitimate daughter of a linen maid, the teenaged Suzanne herself became an unwed mother with no means of supporting herself or her son. 
With no skills or prospects, Suzanne worked as a trapeze artist until a fall ended that career; she then became an artist's model during the burgeoning fin de siècle Parisian Art scene. 
Standing for every great painter from Degas, Renoir and Lautrec, Suzanne, with her own artistic gifts, taught her self how to draw and paint through her own keen observation of the masters at work. This piece is based on a self portrait (1898) which is part of the collection of the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston.

I went into a bead shop and fell in love with a new texture and tool to create with.  Lady Gaga in thigh high boots and little else served as the inspiration of this piece, which was made over the course of 9 months with a variety of seed and bugle beads.

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KA BOOM!!!
This dimensional, sculptural piece depicts Roy Lichtenstein's face being flung from a fabric facsimile of one of his exploding metal sculptures. Made with layers of stiffened stump work, the silk rendered Roy in the center is attached with a spring, allowing movement in the work.

A stump embroidery image of Lee Krasner furiously smoking over a Pollock style (acrylic) drip painting. Lee outwitted, outlasted and outplayed her famous husband without ever disparaging him or his work.

This is a detail from my portrait of Lee Krasner and her husband, Jackson Pollock. Krasner, a talented artist in her own right, masterfully manipulated the Modern Art market with her cagey handling of her volatile and abusive husband's estate.

I wanted to honor Alexander Calder with an embroidered portrait that was also a mobile. I drew my sketch of Mr. Calder in wire, which I covered in cotton utilizing a buttonhole stitch. The dimensional portrait moves, reading sometimes as a face, sometimes as a scribble.

A play on Magritte's Surrealist Art statement regarding pipes, this piece invites the viewer to consider their own lives - both with and without the thing every modern gentleman (and lady) now carries in their pocket: their smartphone. As ubiquitous and addictive as the pipe in Magritte's day, the smartphone is both a tool and a trap. Not that long ago, we could not conceive of living with a portable, hand sized computer, now few can envision life without one. Those who are truly plugged in will appreciate the hanging hardware, which is a twisted, looping charger cable which has been carefully sewn to the back of this mixed media piece.

A play on Magritte's big Surrealist Art statement regarding pipes, this piece invites the viewer to consider their own lives - both with and without their smartphones. Not that long ago, we could not imagine living with a computer in our pocket; now few can envision life without one. Those who are truly plugged in will appreciate the hanging hardware, which is a twisted, looping charger cable which has been carefully sewn to the back of this mixed media piece.

Wool, silk crewel embroidery on deep black velvet. Based on Vermeer's exquisite "Girl with a Pearl earring," this piece modernizes that image with a contemporary girl, dressed in garb stolen from an old boyfriend. And, like Vermeer's girl of long ago, she turns toward us, the viewer, confidently inviting us in as her stunning eyes return our gaze.

Wool, silk crewel embroidery on deep black velvet. Based on Vermeer's exquisite "Girl with a Pearl earring," this piece modernizes that image with a contemporary girl, dressed in garb stolen from an old boyfriend. And, like Vermeer's girl of long ago, she turns toward us, the viewer, confidently inviting us in as her stunning eyes return our gaze.

Silk, copper and glass on juxtaposed with a soft and tactile velvet ground, this piece was made inspired by two very important engineers in my life: my Grandfather, an telephone engineer in the 20's, and my son, a cutting edge and very contemporary software engineer. I made it to honor the role of engineering in art, and of art in engineering.

Woven with action dyed pure silk satin ribbon, this piece was constructed by assembling strips of ribbon, then (in an homage to Pollock) action drip dying them to make a non objective image, followed by "fracturing" the pieces and reassembling them into a whole new idea and concept of what a painting can be.

Silk, copper and glass on juxtaposed with a soft and tactile velvet ground, this piece was made inspired by two very important engineers in my life: my Grandfather, an telephone engineer in the 20's, and my son, a cutting edge and very contemporary software engineer. I made it to honor the role of engineering in art, and of art in engineering.

Acrylic, sequins, and beads on a woven velvet support, this piece evokes the view out an airplane window as travelers descend into a city alive and buzzing even in the darkest night. "The Red Eye" evokes in the viewer the ripe potential of a visitor's hopes for their journey as their plane glides down to the lights and excitement below.

Acrylic, sequins, and beads on a woven velvet support, this piece evokes the view out an airplane window as travelers descend into a city alive and buzzing even in the darkest night. "The Red Eye" evokes in the viewer the ripe potential of a visitor's hopes for their journey as their plane glides down to the lights and excitement below.

Action dyed pure silk ribbon on a ground of turquoise silk dupioni, this piece was inspired by a pile of dozens and dozens of yards of ribbon tangled (after drip dying) on my studio table. As I ran my fingers through the lengths, I realized that the exuberant texture and the interplay of color was much more interesting than my original intent for the ribbon, so I stiffened the pieces and blind sewed them to a canvas stretched with luxurious silk dupioni (slubbed silk).The crashing of cool and warm colors on the final piece reminded me of that shocking little toe dip moment of being both in and out of a warm bath.

This is a small double sided embroidery

Action dyed pure silk ribbon on a ground of turquoise silk dupioni, this piece was inspired by a pile of dozens and dozens of yards of ribbon tangled (after drip dying) on my studio table. As I ran my fingers through the lengths, I realized that the exuberant texture and the interplay of color was much more interesting than my original intent for the ribbon, so I stiffened the pieces and blind sewed them to a canvas stretched with luxurious silk dupioni (slubbed silk).The crashing of cool and warm colors on the final piece reminded me of that shocking little toe dip moment of being both in and out of a warm bath.

Acrylic on Linen with a hole. Is it a painting or is it an escape hatch?

The Roadways of Central Texas OWN early Spring, thanks to the seeds sown half a century ago by native daughter LadyBird Johnson. Blues, pinks, corals, violets, yellows and reds drift through luminescent greens, giving the viewer the sensation of a top down road trip, complete with wayfarers, blasting tunes, and the soft feeling of day's end. An impressionistic play on the patches of roadside color that every Texas child knows, this woven silk painting shimmers and gleams like dappled sunlight rushing by in a blur.

Woven with action dyed pure silk satin ribbon and embellished with a dotted spray of acrylic, this piece was rendered as a prayer for cloudy skies and storms. Cool blues and greens slide into deep lilacs and grays that are predictive of 100% chance of rain.

Woven with action dyed pure silk satin ribbon and embellished with a dotted spray of acrylic, this piece was rendered as a prayer for cloudy skies and storms. Cool blues and greens slide into deep lilacs and grays that are predictive of 100% chance of rain.

A woven, action dyed pure silk ribbon painting embellished with acrylic, this piece reminded me of childhood hours spent traveling the universe, courtesy of the Starship Enterprise.

Woven with action dyed pure silk satin ribbon, this piece was constructed by assembling strips of ribbon, then (in an homage to Pollock) action drip dying them to make a non objective image, followed by "fracturing" the pieces and reassembling them into a whole new idea and concept of what a painting can be. When completed, the carefully controlled and soothing color scheme reminded me of the moon on a cloudless night: silvery, cool and dreamy.

Woven with action dyed pure silk satin ribbon, this piece was constructed by assembling strips of ribbon, then (in an homage to Pollock) action drip dying them to make a non objective image, followed by "fracturing" the pieces and reassembling them into a whole new idea and concept of what a painting can be. When completed, the carefully controlled and soothing color scheme reminded me of the moon on a cloudless night: silvery, cool and dreamy.

A study for "The Sea of Tranquility," this was woven with action dyed pure silk satin ribbon. When completed, the carefully controlled and soothing color scheme reminded me of the moon on a cloudless night: silvery, cool and dreamy. I added sequins and beads on both the front and the sides of the painting because I wanted to enhance the floating feeling that the painting evoked.

A study for "The Sea of Tranquility," this was woven with action dyed pure silk satin ribbon. When completed, the carefully controlled and soothing color scheme reminded me of the moon on a cloudless night: silvery, cool and dreamy. I added sequins and beads on both the front and the sides of the painting because I wanted to enhance the floating feeling that the painting evoked.

A shimmering controlled slide of hand dyed white silk slides sinuously down the length of an acrylic painting, dripping with surreal discord from the lowest edge of the work.