I was told in kindergarten I couldn’t be an artist because I couldn’t draw a horse. Of course, I had never really looked at a horse, but I bought the wisdom passed down from the adults. Then, near the end of my professional career in forensic science, I noticed others taking a class in metalsmithing just before they retired. I gave it a try. The teacher had us pound out a little copper bowl. That was fun. I pounded out 3 copper bowls while the teacher desperately tried to get me to move on to jewelry. Nope. No go.

Eventually I moved on, moved 2,000 miles away, announced I was leaving “disease, death, and decomposition behind me” and that I was going to make “pretty things.” At Pratt Fine Art Center in Seattle, I made jewelry. I didn’t like it. Metalsmithing in general necessitated 3 of my biggest fears – fire, tanks of compressed gasses, and pots of unknown chemical stuff. The only fears I didn’t have to deal with were alligators and quick sand.

Then I discovered printmaking. Pulling back those blankets was just like opening packages on Christmas morning! I printed everything. If it was flat or could be made flat, it went through the press. I won awards and sold my work out in the Northwest. Moved back to Wisconsin, bought a press, printed everything flat or could be made flat, winning awards and selling.

Still can’t draw a horse.