I hated recess. So many people. So many rules. I wanted silence or music. I wanted no one to watch me. No one to see me. No one to tell me how to play, where to play, or who to play with.

I hated recess.

But. I needed to be outside. To see the sky, to feel the air cold or wet or hot or dry. I need to see the sky. I would feel that ache - you know, that terrible, can’t breathe, want to vomit, want to sneeze, but none of those things and so much worse because that feeling, that big beating thing in my chest- wanted out out, out.

Yet, I had to keep it in. Had to hide how desperately, how painfully, I wanted to be Out. Side.

How I needed Silence.

When I wasn’t at home, I was good at finding silence. I was good at sneaking away. All adults want kids to be quiet. To be outdoors, playing. I was good at being good when I was at home.

Home was trees. Home was blankets and chairs and pillows to build with and hide with. Home was clouds.

I never became good at recess. But I found a place. A spot away from the teacher’s eyes. A place to lay on my back and watch as the clouds spun and shaped their way across the sky.

In this collection I am pinning love letters across the sky. I am a skywriter grounded. The Auras I See, is a summons to actively observe, to look up and to see.

Sharing, understanding, the power of art to communicate is personal and vital to me. As a child, I found clouds easier companions than other children. My need for quiet solitude led to a profound love of skygazing. A practice that, no matter how violent the world or the sky, still grants me peace.

Clouds are universal. We may not all have seen a tornado or four feet of snow. But we all know clouds.

My photographs depict cloudscapes captured from limited perspectives. I transform these commonplace photos into fantastical glittering experiences.

Clouds change as we watch them, subtly or quickly, altering, in an endless dance. I use reflective materials to mimic the aerial waltz between land and sky. Paint to trace the trail my eyes track across the sky.

When viewed from a static screen or page, it is still, contained. But as soon as a viewer sees my work a conversation, a dance begins. Height, lighting, angle of approach each tiny difference creates an irreproducible experience, similar but individual, like the clouds my work depicts. This is value of my collection is the individual pieces but the reminder to look, to dream.