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Glass, steel, original text. Two curtains each: 6H x 7W .25 D.  2006.  $3,750  each + s/h.
This is half of the piece. Each oval presents one syllable. Lines are read top to bottom. A sonnet is 14 lines with 10 syllables per line, thus a perfectly rectangular structure.
Blown, sandblasted and acid-etched glass; sandblasted, dyed and acrylic-sealed stone; original text. 10H x 20L x 12W.  Blue-violet sphere with equatorial wrap of text. 2010.  Private collection.
Private collection.
Full text reads:
The world is filled with charms and spells. Consider how a hint of perfume dazzles the mind, what magic lies in the warm whisper of a kiss, the way a single rose will capture the heart of a lover. And you? what smile, what heady desire has entered your dreams and cast its wild, sparkling enchantment over your life?

The Coriolis Effect

Glass, stone, original text.  15H x 34.5W x 19D.  Museum of Northwest Art Permanent Collection  "I could describe the seas of your eyes as torrential. Boreal. Aegean if Aegean were riverine. I could open like a mouth, like French doors onto the first week of spring, like . . ."


Glass, stone, original text.  15H x 32W x 15D.  Private collection.

Amazing how life reverses itself how a field of ice and snow will dissolve into crocus and lilies, how a single lucky coin can turn a man into a millionaire, how two angry lovers stopping to catch their breath rediscover a warm, familiar kiss.  And here you are, resilient as the wind riding the wheel of fate through day and night and back again learning to navigate disaster and luck, to face the worlds shadow and light with equal grace . . .

Blown, sandblasted, acid-etched glass and acrylic-sealed glass; sandblasted, dyed and acrylic-sealed stone; original text. Black with red interior. Illuminated.  14.5H x 14D x 19W.  Private Collection.  ". . . Oh love, what human heart, what strength of resolve can possibly survive this tearing passion . ."


Some things are meant to be broken. Consider the wrapping surrounding a present, a codes secret message, the silence between two shy strangers. And you you with your lucid dreams and fragile heart tell me how you broke away from the daily boredom of your life, breaking the rules like a window pane, shattering the days neat order into a thousand glittering possibilities . . . 
Destroyed by the US Post Office.
"Smashed on fine merlot, nothing could break that night's revelry of family and friends."

You always cut the one you love, they say. I say:  hold me.

I am broken, yes, but broken like bread a piece for everyone.

Shattered like silence, Ive become sharper than ever, unafraid of the worlds wracks and hammers.

One day you too will fall from one world into another and everything everything will be utterly changed.


Poetry Door
Xerox transfer on sandblasted plate glass, original text. Private collection.
Remember: Memorial for the 9/11/01 Attacks  Plate glass construction sandblasted with the  names of all who died in the 911 attacks and original text. 40.5"H x 18.5"W x 8.5" D.   Private collection.

Watering Can

Found object, gold leaf, paint, original text. Private collection.



She was a goddess of weeds. Day after day shed take the dented watering can and sprinkle the parched earth with long, cool draughts of water. Under her care, clay and sand burst into meadows of horsetail and blackberry, bindweed and nightshade. Every evening she could be seen mulching her love letters, tattered receipts, debts past due. She gave up her trusts, her old will, all her bonds to the warm, welcoming earth.



But the garden began to fade. She watered less and less sometimes bare thimblefuls would fall from the can and soon the whole great plot wilted, turning dry and brittle and golden in the sun. Then they saw her laughing on a swing beneath a willow, holding a single rose in her hand, her white summer dress billowing in the easy wind. All my tears are gone, she cried. And the watering can is empty.


                           My, youve got a beautiful A.            A beautiful jay has caught your eye

                    I love the way your vowels sound.            Sounding for all the world like love

                      I could stare deeply into your Is            High in the trees, in the deep, starred wood

                          and come to know the real U,            You realize, now, is yours to command.

             caress your O like a firm, round but            But what round form rides your caress, the

                                   I digress. I love the way            Way the dove and ibis fly?

                                 your vowels sound. What            What soundless howls pour

                             ecstasy! They shower down            Down from bowers, ecstatically?

                like colorful leaves on an autumn day            Days tumble and fall in leaves, colorful like

                    and, oh! youve got a beautiful A!            A beautiful jay. What joy and

                                I should sing of it with Es            Ease they bring! Could I

                      but Im quickly losing ground             Ground this moment quickly in time?

          (rough Cs are tossing my letters around)            Around and down these letters fall, softly

                    I love the way your vowels sound.            Sounding for all the world like love.


Tower 1:   Tell me how it happened. How, without warning on a typical day, when the sun rose bright with possibility, and the morning news was everything ordinary your whole world came crashing down, and everything you ever loved shattered like glass.


Tower 2:   Tell me how you refused to let the world unravel. How you began, slowly, methodically, to gather the pieces, to order the rubble, to build anew. Tell me how you walked boldly, proudly, with a strong, new resolve, into the waking light of this fragile world of ours.


The final line of the list of names reads  and many others whose names we will never know.

Artist Statement
with full text.