my grandmother taught me how to crochet before i could read.

when i was eight, i wanted to be a fashion designer.

when i was twelve i wanted to be an architect.

when i was fourteen, a set and lighting designer.

my dad and i used to build model cars and whenever anyone looks at the hundreds of tiny circles i twist and asks me if i'm insane, i think back to painting a spark plug on the engine of car that is too small to hold a shot glass.   what? you don't cross your eyes for fun and relaxation?

all of this is now up on the walls.

 my eyes have always wanted to put things in places, my hands to build things.

at kutztown university,  i loved working with metal.

i studied jewelry design.

i made horrible jewelry.

it was huge and hurt to wear

"excuse me, im saving this seat for my bracelet

or it was terribly unoriginal and china could make it much cheaper.

one semester an enameling class started two hours later than the 8 am jewelry class

i  hated enamel at our first introduction but  loved the idea of those 2 hours

i'd figure something out

enamel and i made nice

it was all i wanted to do, i enameled everything

it didn't make the jewelry any better though

i graduated and bought a kiln

my kiln and i  would figure something out

and hopefully move out of my parents basement

fast forward through some waitressing and mindnumbing office type work

i was moping around scranton

trying to figure out how to make people buy my bad jewelry

it doubles as a weapon?

still figuring things out

a friend opened a little gallery and knowing i was some kind of artist person asked if i wanted to hang some work

in my head i said " i make jewelry, it hangs on ears

out loud i said "sure"  and "bartender, get this man a drink

for my first project in that enamel class i had  made tiny tiles

and of course i tried to hang them on people's necks

i figured i could do that, but bigger and hang them on walls

and i did

and now i do.