The best hours of my childhood were spent in the beautiful and verdant forests of Michigan, where the soft moss became velvet, dry leaves crunched like crisp silk, and ferns clothed the ground in a fragrant green garment. The forest seemed to envelop me, wild but sheltering. As a girl, I would walk through the woods and daydream that I was a daughter of the forest and a queen of my own private realm, clothed in the woods and the flora that surrounded me. The natural world seemed to me rich with the most luxuriant materials, equal to anything a queen would wear.
As an adult I have realized how my love of the woods intertwines with my love of textiles: there is a close intersection between the textures of fabrics and the textures of the natural world. Moss is velvet, leaves are raw silk, stones, berries, and acorn caps are little treasures, beads, buttons, and gems.
In my work, I observe the connection between the ephemeral nature of these forest treasures and the transience of fashion-- both a maple leaf and a medieval gown, once removed from their time and place of origin, become dry, faded, fragile things that have lost their original beauty and significance. My work strives to recreate the importance and beauty of lost things in a way that grants them a new life, or a bit of permanence.