Like many sculptors, I came to making art late in life, after having had several previous careers.

I started adulthood as a chemist, going through various phases from analytics to development to research chemist. Having tired of lab work, I managed to parlay myself into becoming a technical writer in the biotechnology field, again going through multiple iterations; from operator’s manual writer, to marketing, to sole proprietor of my company, Lab Rat Communications.

Full time motherhood constituted my third career, with as many phases as there are years and kids. In the last phase, I decided to take a hobby that had been my lifelong creative passion and turn it into a career.  So, while my kids were busy becoming adults in their high school years, I went back to college to study fashion design.

But, I quickly saw that constructing clothes wasn’t the only means of creating unique and exciting three-dimensional forms. There were other media with tactile and expressive qualities just as sensual and intriguing as those of luxurious fabrics.

I became a sculptor.

What phases this will lead to remains to be seen.

The Sculptor and the Elephant

I dreamt last night
an elephant
was wresting leafy boughs from trees,
its head held high,
and shimmering,
in waves of heat.

At dawn, I found my log,
a fallen linden,
lying featureless. But not for long.

When mallet strikes the chisel,
driving deep into the grain – wood splits –
the excess falls and form remains.

Then, guided firm, but tenderly,
the chisel sweeps a soft caress 
through wood that whispers back,

“We’re intimates.”

The elephant’s defined,
the thrust of tusks, the trunk and tree entwined.
The soul’s released (the eyes attest),
expressing cautious interest.

And now – can you believe?
What was once
can breathe.

The elephant stares back at me – and feeds.