The upcoming celebration of love that is Valentine’s Day got me thinking about all the art I’ve loved throughout my life. Our ever-growing art collection features sculptures, paintings, prints, fully realized creations and concept sketches – we love them all. While this is only a tiny slice of the artworks that grace our home and studio, today I picked a selection of works to share that are special to me for the emotional connection I have to them and the stories they bring to my mind.

Perhaps it is fitting to begin with my first love. As a sculpture student at university, I was utterly enamored of a book on sculpting: “Terra Cotta: The Technique of Fired Clay Sculpture” by Bruno Lucchesi. Those dog-eared, clay spattered pages accompanied me on my journey in ceramic sculpture – teaching, inspiring, and encouraging me. Imagine my delight, when decades later, I came across a lot of his sculptures that was being auctioned. One piece was a very traditional Lucchesi sculpture of a woman, the other, this very non-traditional sculpture of four demons feasting at a table with the Pope, best I can tell. It charms me in so many ways: its irreverently unique subject matter, its connection to the long history of terra cotta bozzetti, its insistence on insinuating a story, the ease and gestural quality of the sculpting. The little details, from the plate of bones and partially eaten chicken, to the hoofed feet only visible on the backside, to the fellow seemingly taking a nap on the table, to the finger pointing and heated discussion at the other end, invite you to wander through the piece for hours. It makes me smile (and sometimes giggle) every time I look at it.

Also when I was a young (and very poor) art student, I came across the work of K. W. Diefenbach via this silhouette. It is from “Per Aspera Ad Astra” (From Adversity to the Stars), a 34-panel silhouette frieze illustrating a procession of dancing children, animals and mythological figures. The original panorama of images was published in a concertina book, a format I adore. The feeling of freedom, adventure, and whimsical joy I get from this tiny image is remarkable. I had no money (I think I lived on Kraft Mac ‘n Cheese, Snickers and Diet Coke at that time), but somehow I managed to acquire this little beauty. This piece has traveled with me through the transitions of my life – moves across the country, changing studios, many homes (including a short stint living in a tent in a sculpture garden) – this piece certainly outlasted many a relationship. While plenty of possessions were lost to the passing of time, this little treasured one has remained, and it went on to inspire a series of sculptural works when Colin and I got together.

One more story from when I was young that inspired art that is now dear to me. My work in college was…well, angry, angst-filled, and challenging. Life-sized ceramic figures confronting invisible structures that squashed individuality and forced conformity, commentary on attitudes towards women and sex, screaming figures suffocating through their inner struggles – rage in sculptural form, I suppose. I’d been hanging out with a friend who went to the Center for Creative Studies in Detroit – at that time, a top tier art school. He shared his place with three other art students there – we’d crossed paths a few times. They knew I was a sculptor, but had never seen my work. One day my friend told me he’d showed them my slides (yep, that long ago!). He said they all got very quiet looking at them and after a long pause, said, “Well, we figured she made pink, fluffy bunny rabbits or something…”  Given the nature of my work at that time, I found that enormously amusing. Jumping forward many years, during Covid, Colin and I began a weekly video call with Dug Stanat and Patrick Masson, sculptors from California and France. We worked in our studios while we chatted and one day, that story about me “making pink, fluffy bunny rabbits” came up. To my absolute delight, on my birthday that year, they both sculpted rabbits for me in honor of that long time past – those sculptures have become mementos of our friendship and are two of my treasured favorites.

Dug Stanat’s Zombie Bunny

Patrick Masson’s Buff Bunny

One year at IX, I spotted this magical tiny landscape by Christopher Vacher. I went up to the third floor any number of times to lose myself in the mystery of its subtlety and beauty. Finally, I asked Colin to come up and take a look – we always choose artworks that speak to both of us. When we got to his booth, Colin was so taken by Christopher’s sketchbooks that he didn’t even see the painting. I thought, “well, okay, I guess that one’s not for us.” But as the weekend progressed, my mind kept drifting back to the painting and, finally on Sunday afternoon I couldn’t resist any longer – I had to have it. I went upstairs only to find, to my despair, his space was empty! Christopher had left early to catch a plane. I got his phone number and texted him, “Please, please, please tell me you still have that painting! It needs to come home with me! Whatever it takes.” Fate fell in my favor that day and this beauty hangs where I see it first thing every morning. When Colin saw it, he immediately fell in love too. Even after these many years, I am still entranced with the ancient feeling enigma of this work.

At the IX Showcase another year, we saw this beautifully painted little “Crow-yote” by Laura Garabedian. We didn’t know her at the time and chatted a bit – we loved the personality and the confident, masterful design of this lovely little work. I don’t know why we didn’t buy it right then – maybe got pulled away by other friends – but the next morning we saw her coming out of the elevator with the Crow-yote in hand. I said, “Ohhhh… you sold him then…”, happy for her but disappointed for me. And she said brightly, “No, he’s for you!” and handed him to us. We were so surprised and delighted, we didn’t know quite what to say – we became fast friends that very moment. This little painting opened the door to one of our most cherished friendships and he hangs where we see him every day.

At one show, our booth was across from Omar Rayyan. We kept looking at this free-spirited naiad and her steed. Colin and I both loved it – the energy, the joy, the feeling –  but it was a bit out of our buying range. I figured we would just have to admire her during the show – fortunately we would get to see her the whole time. The second morning, a big, red “sold” tag appeared. My heart fell – maybe a part of me had been thinking we might still figure out how to purchase her. Imagine my delight, when at the end of the show, Omar walked over and with a smile, handed the painting to me. Colin had bought her as a gift knowing how much I loved her.

I met Paul Birchak when he was cashiering at our local food co-op. He is one of the kindest spirited people I have ever met and helped me through some challenging times. On my weekly visits to the store, we started talking about art, only to find out we both worked in ceramics. Before I had my own kilns, I had some sculptures that needed to be fired and Paul offered to help. I brought my sculptures to his place and he asked if I could help him with something very hard before we loaded the kiln. His old dog had reached the point where he needed to be put to sleep. Paul asked if I would be willing to help him afterwards as he didn’t think he could carry his old buddy by himself. Of course I said yes, and we spent the afternoon reminiscing about all the times they’d shared, crying and laughing together, as we laid his dear pup to rest. Later, I found this little ceramic wall piece with a phoenix that Paul had made. When I look at it, it reminds me of that day – the sadness, yes, but also the deep trust, love, and compassion that can be shared between people when they open their hearts to each other. The phoenix reminds me that even on the darkest days, rebirth, renewal, and happiness will come again.

At the first Spectrum Live Colin and I attended, we met Tim Bruckner and had many conversations about art. He was always generous with sharing his extensive experience working with resins and sculpting materials we were unfamiliar with. When I saw his “Water Nymph” at a show, I loved her immediately, and she came home with me. For Tim’s long history of sculpting really incredibly pieces for DC and other companies, this personal piece of his sings to me at a totally different level. I have her on my sculpting desk – it feels like she is literally beckoning forth the spirit of creativity. The way Tim sculpted the water out of wax sheets, (then managed to mold them and cast them in resin) still blows my mind every time I look at her. It reminds me that no matter how complicated it may be, there is always a way to create the vision you have in your mind.

This lovely painting by Hilary Clarcq is one of several of hers in our collection. Colin bought it for me as a surprise and, no surprise, I love it. There is such a sense of glimpsing a mystical moment right as the bird passes over her eyes. One more split second and you’ve missed it, like so much in life.

One of the first times I saw Aedan Roberts’ work, he had some fan-fold sketchbooks that were stunning. I really, really wanted one. I asked (probably multiple times) if he would be publishing them, but sadly, he said no. His line work and design aesthetics are so distinctive, we wanted one of his pieces for a long time. We’d bought prints of course, but for the work we hang in our home gallery, we prefer originals. When I saw this painting, I knew it was perfect and bought it as a surprise for Colin. It’s quirky and curious how the figures dissolve into and out of each other. No matter how many times I look at it, it still makes my mind puzzle as to what exactly I’m seeing and I love that uncertainty blended with the erotic undertones. Pure Aedan.

We have always adored Allen and Vicki Williams. We have many of Allen’s prints and when we saw this original drawing, we lost our minds. When we found out it was coming home with us we were ecstatic. Allen wasn’t at the booth when we fell in love with this piece and we told Vicki that if he was willing to consider a trade, we’d be delighted. The next morning, we turned around to see Allen standing at our booth with a huge smile and this drawing in his hands. We were honored to be entrusted with this beauty. It is one of the artworks that we see every single day that inspires us, consistently brings our minds to a state of wonder, and is wrapped in all the kindness and talent that is Allen Williams.

We did an artist residency at the Buffalo Creek Art Center. Two of the other artists were LeRoy Transfield and Douglas Pryor. LeRoy made dozens of clay sketches in his time there – it was inspiring to see the diversity of subject matter he explored. The gesture, action, and sense of weight in this pair of Sumo wrestlers is superlative. Douglas was making a life-sized elephant head out of a flat sheet of steel – using heat, hammers, and muscle. It was insane! His hand chased ram’s head is a testament to the beauty of traditional methods of metal work.

It was closing time at a show and as always, Colin and I were still chatting with people in our booth as they started turning off the lights. We grabbed our stuff and I said, “Really quick, come with me over here,” as I jogged across the show floor. “I want to show you a painting.” Colin smiled and said, “Is it a gorgeous painting of a woman’s back?” I stopped, surprised. He said, “I’ll show you which one…” and sure enough, led me straight to the painting I’d wanted to show him – this beautiful figure by Anthony Palumbo. Of course, she had to join our collection!

And one final story in the spirit of love: a couple days after Colin and I had first met, he took me on a walk in the moonlight to a place that overlooks a valley with the mountains rising up in the distance. It was breathtaking. As I looked on in silent wonder, he gently fastened a necklace on me with the silver Cycladic goddess pendant below. He’d bought it years before on a Greek Island and was waiting for the one he would give it to. I’ve worn that pendant on all of our travels ever since. Last year, he used it as inspiration to create a series of goddess pendants for me out of bronze. The bone pendant he also carved for me when we first met and last year re-sculpted it for bronze. These are, of course, tiny artworks that are not only worn near my heart, but deeply touch my heart too.

It’s an intriguing mental game to consider why the artworks you love resonate with you. Some of the most interesting art collections we’ve ever seen were very eclectic and the artworks related only by the interests and instincts of the collector. Many times, it’s just a visceral sense that calls us to bring a piece home. Taking the time to distinguish for yourself what attracts you to something can help you understand your own work more completely and perhaps inspire new directions.

An important side note to art collecting is this: if you make art and wish for people to buy your art, it is helpful if you also participate in the art buying market. We’ve heard artists say, “Well, I make art. I don’t buy it!” Going through the process of choosing for yourself artwork you’re willing to trade your hard-earned money for helps you understand at a very personal level why people buy art, the powerful benefits of having someone else’s art in your space over time, the psychology of how we create meaning and emotional connection to art, and how decisions are made – because you are experiencing making them yourself. All of this allows you to have more genuine, authentic conversations with people your art resonates with and help them move from admirer to collector. Besides, buying art you love from someone empowers them, both financially and spiritually, to make more of it. And if there’s one thing we all need more of right now, it’s creativity and possibility.