An article in the Spring 2011 issue of Southeast Kansas Living magazine mentioned that I started making mosaic in 2000. It’s true that’s the year I grew more serious about this medium, but I really began a year earlier, as a recent divorcee about to embark on a new journey. The first plate broken (and several of those that followed) had been thrown months earlier in a rare burst of anger. When all was over and my temper cooled, my first response was astonishment and then relief and, finally, remorse. The dishes once belonged to my mother-in-law, and they were considered to be heirlooms for my children. Seeing those precious plates lying in pieces, then the collecting of shards and later the fashioning of them into a bowl – well, the symbolism couldn’t be more obvious to me now. But, at the time, I had no clue where those broken plates would lead me.
There are so many reasons I am drawn to this art form. Mosaic is an extension of my love for working puzzles – mostly jigsaw and crossword – and taking pleasure in fitting pieces together. It’s a desire to give new life to unusable and unwanted dishes and bric-a-brac that once decorated homes and meant something to the families who lived there. It appeals to my thrifty nature: most of my materials are cast-offs, doomed to the landfill – but now have a renewed purpose. It’s an appreciation of ceramic styles, colors and design through a historical lens, from exquisite to hideous, and a cultural anthropology study of what we have chosen to grace our dinner tables through the years. Finally, and perhaps best of all, it is fun to make.
Mosaic is my creative expression, my joy, and my medicine. It gets me fired up. It makes me grin. Being self-taught has presented a unique set of challenges; still, I am rewarded so greatly with the learning process. After 22 years and counting, I’m still excited to try new things. I’ve been fortunate to have the support of family, friends, neighbors and even strangers, all having shared kind words and many having purchased my work for their homes or to give as gifts. I am humbled and honored to know my creations are part of other lives.
It just makes sense that I would find meaning in taking broken things and re-imagining them as whole, valued more than the original object. The Japanese have a word for this: kintsugi – the act of repairing cracked pottery with gold. While I use grout, the intention is the same. We all break, and through the act of healing, we become not only a new being, but a stronger and more beautiful one than before.
I’m proud to continue in this tradition of folk art and pleased to see the recent upswing in its popularity. I offer my gratitude to those who fuel my passion with ideas, encouragement, commissions, and wonderful gifts of breakables. Thank you for giving me this space to create.
There are so many reasons I am drawn to this art form. Mosaic is an extension of my love for working puzzles – mostly jigsaw and crossword – and taking pleasure in fitting pieces together. It’s a desire to give new life to unusable and unwanted dishes and bric-a-brac that once decorated homes and meant something to the families who lived there. It appeals to my thrifty nature: most of my materials are cast-offs, doomed to the landfill – but now have a renewed purpose. It’s an appreciation of ceramic styles, colors and design through a historical lens, from exquisite to hideous, and a cultural anthropology study of what we have chosen to grace our dinner tables through the years. Finally, and perhaps best of all, it is fun to make.
Mosaic is my creative expression, my joy, and my medicine. It gets me fired up. It makes me grin. Being self-taught has presented a unique set of challenges; still, I am rewarded so greatly with the learning process. After 22 years and counting, I’m still excited to try new things. I’ve been fortunate to have the support of family, friends, neighbors and even strangers, all having shared kind words and many having purchased my work for their homes or to give as gifts. I am humbled and honored to know my creations are part of other lives.
It just makes sense that I would find meaning in taking broken things and re-imagining them as whole, valued more than the original object. The Japanese have a word for this: kintsugi – the act of repairing cracked pottery with gold. While I use grout, the intention is the same. We all break, and through the act of healing, we become not only a new being, but a stronger and more beautiful one than before.
I’m proud to continue in this tradition of folk art and pleased to see the recent upswing in its popularity. I offer my gratitude to those who fuel my passion with ideas, encouragement, commissions, and wonderful gifts of breakables. Thank you for giving me this space to create.
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