About the Artist
No one ever took a photograph of it, at least not one that I have ever seen, but if you were to use your imagination, there, near the wet place behind our trailer home, a little girl barefooted in white cotton covered from knees to neck with that black clay of the prairie land that lies under an East Texas sky….
That would be me, alright, a child in 1968 with the high cheeked face from distant native heritage, and I could not get enough of it, and deaf I was to anyone who might object…..
I tell this now with a smile, knowing as I do, how little has changed, knowing how deeply enthralled I become with the tactile pleasure that comes from pushing paint around, and still, at the end of a day, I am covered with it…
If the world has gone and passed me by, I may not have heard it go, and I would not care less if it did, because this work I do, well, it is done with heart and hand, and it is in this way that my life is lived.
photo credit: Raymond Chorneau