I grew up in West Texas surrounded by prickly pears and rattlesnakes and barbed wire fences.  Though I respected the qualities of each, I sure never thought of them as having anything to do with art.  In this harsh environment, I was hunting for the family table by age 8, so I dealt only with the practical.
As I matured I learned that my thinking is mathematical and analytical. But the other side of my brain kept insisting that I create some things that were not just practical.  I started working in wood, learning through trial-and-error.  I became a successful seller of crafts and collectibles.

Then my studio burned to the ground taking all my equipment -- and finished product -- with it.  I faced three months of retail shows, for which I'd paid nonrefundable vendor deposits. So I catalogued what did survive the fire: the roof of the cabin studio, a water heater, and some coils of barbed wire. 

I flattened the corrugated metal of the roof. I peeled the metal shell from the water heater. I stretched the barbed wire. I began sketching some designs.  My first chandelier literally came from the fire.

So I'm back among the elements I started with -- prickly pears, rattlesnakes, yuccas, saguaros, armadillos, roadrunners, and that infernal barbed wire.  Some of these designs I form into functional pieces, like my chandeliers. I'm using very resistant media to create objects of stark beauty from the Texas desert that I love.  I'm "just makin' stuff."  It was others who began to call me artist



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