There is not a more dominant force behind my work than the open prairie of the Midwestern landscape. It has become a comforting mother figure of sorts, a place whose empty spaces present a welcome withdrawal from the everyday.  I want to sit and hear nothing but the wind; I want to be blinded by the amber glow of an evening sky; I want to be rid of all unnecessary clutter.  My yearning for this retreat manifests itself in several distinct bodies of work: minimal reflections on the bleakness of the winterscape; whimsical abstractions where trees, patchwork quilts, and other elements fly high above a distant ground; and darker— even violent — explorations that tie to my longing for solitude.