When I first saw the photographs from Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, I could hardly believe my eyes. All the people who were left behind were people of color. They were the ones who didn't have the cars or the bank accounts to evacuate. They were herded into the Superdome where there were inadequate sanitary facilities, no food or water, then corralled onto buses to Houston and left to languish in hotel rooms and temporary shelters.

I created "War is Not Pretty" while completing a residency at the Vermont Studio Center, a residency program that welcomes 60 artists and writers a month from all over the world to come together in community and create their work.  At the time of my second residency at VSC, the war in Iraq had begun, a war that did and still does affect cultures around the world. This was a unique opportunity for artists and writers from around the world to exchange perspectives on what the war meant, as well as to discuss the tremendous power of the visual image in portraying its impact.

Community does not just exist in a small scale such as our own towns and cities, but also in a much larger scale, as we live in a "world community". Our actions reverberate throughout the world whether we live in the USA, Asia, the Middle East, Europe, Africa or anywhere else. We share a global economy, an intermingling of cultures (largely due to the ease of traveling), and because of technological advances we can communicate more broadly and much quicker than ever before. This creates such a positive opportunity for life enrichment but it also increases our dependency on each other. Building community cannot exist without recognizing the responsibility we have to each other.

"War is Not Pretty" grew out of these realizations as well as the understanding of how powerful the graphic images of war can be and how they can be misused and misread. The press and government in this country presented the Iraq war and the initial bombing as though they were marketing a product, spending exorbitant amounts of money on graphics, melodramatic voices, and stylistic logos specifically designed to capture our attention. It was as though they were presenting a trailer of the latest Hollywood movie.

I remember watching the night vision films of the bombs over Baghdad that projected an almost eerie beauty, as though we were just watching a fireworks celebration. Where were the films of what happened when those bombs hit the ground? I felt as though we were being treated as children: condescended to, easily manipulated by a "pretty" picture. Where were the films and stories of the casualties on both sides? Where were the not-so-pretty pictures of soldiers coming home in pieces mentally and physically?

Communities are not just made of governments, militaries, corporations; they are also children, and families. Moreover, those government officials, soldiers, and civilians all have families too. We have a responsibility before we engage in a war where we send men and women in to sacrifice their lives, where we jeopardize the safety of the communities of other countries as well as our own, to truth-tell not just with our words but with our visual images.

Easthampton faces choices and decisions that have an impact on the balance between growth and the preservation of open space.

I have heard great discussions in meetings that look for ways to generate economic vitality while maintaining some of the rural character of this community.

My other paintings and drawings are abstractions of ideas and feelings for which I use layers of color and loose lines to suggest form, movement, and space.  My work is usually scaled large enough so that, as I move to push a brush across the surface, the movement does not get stuck in my wrist and can involve my whole body.  I consider the vantage point of the viewer to be essential to many of my pieces, especially my horse imagery.  I like to place myself very close to the scene I create, where can then invite viewers to enter and explore the space in their own way.  I intend for any meaning of my artwork to be as personal to viewers as it is to me.  It isn't that I intend to be secretive, but rather for the painting to be open to many interpretations over an extended period of time.  For viewers who may choose to live with one of my images I feel that it is imperative for the meaning of a particular piece to change as they change allowing the image can grow with them over time.  

The rewards of painting in my life are vast and still being discovered.  Sharing my images with others is vital to my learning process of art making and to the experience of being human.  I know I am accompanied by many artists in this statement and I am honored and proud to feel a connection to such a community.  It is my goal to remain an active part of the artistic community through avenues where I can continue on my path of sharing and learning. 

I believe that the Manhan Rail Trail Project was and still is representative of the community values instilled in Easthampton. Many people benefit from the trail's natural setting and it affords a peaceful and reflective time for some and vigorous exercise for others. It will continue to be a valuable resource for the community for generations to come.

For five years our family has been a shareholder of the Mountain View CSA Farm on East Street in Easthampton.  Weekly, we pick up our share of beautiful, delicious, organic produce, talk with friends, make new friends, walk the farm land, play in the sandbox, etc.

New England Barns serve symbolic, functional, historic and aesthetic roles in our cherished landscapes. Constructed well, often with the best craftsmanship and ingenuity, even neglected they can stand the test of time.

In the course of their lives, barns have almost certainly protected food and animals, in addition to people. They have been the location of joyous gatherings, untold numbers and types of projects and creations, and of recreations, including "hide and seek", camping out and "hoop". They have witnessed the first kiss, and more!

Collectively and individually they are the repository of memory and a free agrarian lifestyle steadily disappearing. They are, for so many of us, "our heart's desire".

The piece I have chosen for this show is from a body of works I created during a difficult time in my family's history.  I knew my life as a daughter would be coming to an end and I felt a need to bear witness and pay homage.     

The work in this series was all photo-based.  Many of the photos recorded family events and the still lives that were scattered throughout the familial home.  I painted the surface of the photograph to distill and recapture the visceral sensation that existed beyond the snapshot.  

I moved to the Pioneer Valley in September 2006 from New York City, where I had lived and worked for 15 years.  My reasons for choosing to come here were manifold. Apart from the obvious affordable housing, liberal politics and cleaner environment, I was attracted to the access to nature, the preserved natural spaces and the abundance of opportunities to experience wildlife and the calming beauty of the landscape.  In addition, having spent the first 27 years of my life in rural England, there was something strangely familiar about the people, their attitudes and values, which made me feel at home.

Within my chosen medium, monotype prints, I knew I wanted to incorporate elements "coming together" and "joining" along with actual written words. I had a list of verbs in mind : imagine, weave, create, join, resolve and reflect. These ideas got me started on my piece. I often work on several prints at one time, because like in life, there are alternative answers to questions and in this way I am able to make differing choices and compare the results. Thus, I printed, tore, sewed, glued and assembled. I created a suite of four finished pieces. The piece I chose for the show, though not "Imagine" is the one I thought was the strongest artistic statement. Though it does not incorporate the written word, two of my other completed pieces do have words.

Upon completion, I faced a dilemma titling this piece. Though the verbs had guided me through the process, the finished collage was a noun, a thing. And that thing was "collaboration". The artistic forms are in collaboration. Communities are a collaboration. Though there may be conflict and differences within, the process and the result are a collaboration.