If I were to exam a sample of my DNA in order to trace my roots, I suspect the results will show my closest relatives are creaking windmills, hummingbird canyons, and cottonwoods growing along the San Pedro River in Cochise County. They
were the companions of my childhood and the therapeutic scenes of my halftime years. The journey to (new art photography was proceeded by art history classes infused with
French Impressionist and Old Masters, mother of two great children and a career as a mental health counselor.
Photography arrived, late in life, as a lifeline. However, in retrospect, I can see there was an underground current and a cumulative blend of experiences that bubbled to the surface quenching a thirst of which I was unaware and returning me to the cellular existence of my “ancestors.”
