The human presence is a constant in my work. Often beginning with old snapshots, candid photos of family, friends and strangers, I try to capture slices of time, evocative moments. I'm fascinated by what home photographers inadvertently catch: images that are often casual and non-reverential, the subjects captured without their masks on, the scene not lit or staged. The results are situations, faces and places that resonate with viewers, reminding them of the life they really led instead of the stories they created about their pasts.
Perhaps my interests in family images and portraits of people in unguarded moments come from growing up with a father, a grandfather and a brother who were psychiatrists. Perhaps my desire to draw and paint was formed by a mother and her three sisters, all of whose artistic talents were enthusiastically encouraged by their mother. In any case, I grew up surrounded by art and conversations about people, and I have been drawing people since I could hold a crayon. After college, art took a back seat to other career and family demands, but at the age of 40, I returned to it full time. I haven't looked back since.