In their simplest form, a length of linen cloth from a Pharaoh's tomb, the linen bed sheets of my great grandmother, a sheet of tough translucent flax paper made in a New York City loft and a curtain of hand spun flax string are all related. They come directly from organic materials, they have their own wonderful colorless color, and they bear the marks of the hand that made them.

For me, these materials have shaped the slow emergence of a body of work that has moved from wall sculpture to free hanging units and finally to installation. The forms are born from the structure and texture of these materials. The picture formed in the mind's eye gradually becomes a place, an enterable sculpture, a tent, a shelter, a hallow tree or cupboard. The installations emerge from childhood memories, from the experience of working with seriously ill children in hospitals and from a yearning for safety and calm. The world is not safe or calm anymore.