Born in Texas, escaped to college, made my way to Europe and then came back to the States.  

My teenage self had already written my autobiography by the time I was 14: I would write books, live on a ranch (in Texas), and adopt all the dogs from the local pound; I would be married with children by 26. Instead, I fell in love with science and languages, left Texas, spent years in Europe, and married a man who doesn’t even like dogs. Children arrived, but not on schedule. I still don’t have a dog.

When we moved to Chicago in 2006, I left the professional life I had built, to help settle kids and figure out what I really wanted to be. It turns out that was an artist. I started pursuing art, and since then, I have been gobbling it up, trying everything from drawing to ceramics, painting, etching, lithography, screenprinting, and even a bit of performance. I have woven and embroidered, and podcasted. I have gotten stuck and shaken loose. I have organized artists groups and put together collaborative shows. I have pushed myself to grow as an artist, when it was still hard to own that title. It was in 2014, during the Center Program, that I felt a tectonic shift in my art, and it became personal, and in 2016 the personal became political. I don’t have a traditional MFA. I have years of pursuing media that spoke to me or that I felt I needed to make what I wanted to make. At the same time that I did Center Program, I also completed the Visual Arts Certificate Program through the Graham School.

Recently I got my 23 and Me results back and found out that I’m not 75% German as was passed down in family lore, but only 21%. The years I spent studying German, living in Germany, and working as a translator take on a new cast. I’m not what I thought I was, or what other people have told me I am. Strangely, that opens new doors. I don’t have to live in past expectations.