I do appreciate your interest concerning the goings-on in my studio, but I am afraid that I must report a daily experience little short of misery compounded upon woe.
My hands shake, as if stricken by some foul palsy, and my muse has all-but vacated me. I am thus bereft of even the smallest spark of inspiration. A lantern-fire (caused by the nervous horse with whom I share my space) has destroyed nearly half of my original watercolours, the only decent work I have done in the last ten years. A small hole in the ceiling continues to grow larger, as I have no funds to repair it, and thus every sort of weather and vermin finds entry and vexes me further. My studio reeks noisomely.
My pens seem to be continually clogged as if someone has laid a curse against me. My sharpener serves only to dull my favorite pencils, and grinds them to such short stubs that I would need the fingers of a monkey to use them properly, even optimistically supposing that my aching hands might one day cease to shake. My eyesight grows ever weaker, as I strain to put the futile finishing touches on work that I end up botching in any case.
Even so, I have persevered.
BFA, Painting, Massachusetts College of Art, 1990
MFA, Printmaking, Academy of Art College, 1994
Thank you!
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