New Work In this series, I combine images of the landscape with photographs made of sunlit patterns inside my house. The early morning light falling on an unmade bed combine with leaves on wet pavement, and a boardwalk leading to a distant forest is placed next to blue squares formed by the late afternoon sun. The interplay of light, shape, and color enhances the complexity and mood of each image, connecting indoor and outdoor spaces.


Light House (2018)Nothing is less photogenic than a bare wall, or a corner, or a door frame. Until the wall is painted dark red, deep blue, or mustard yellow. Until rosy-fingered dawn passes through the window, and red becomes orange. Until the 'golden hour' turns one side of a corner turquoise, the other white. Then, a light green oval appears, with hazy sfumato edges. Cherry red windows shine on a dark red wall, and a sharp edge curves. The light moves fast--and I move fast to catch it.

Sewell Brook in Sherborn, MA, where I photograph, is named for the judge in the Salem witch trials. The brook empties into the Charles River just up-stream of the overlook, where the Massasoit chief King Philip planned his deadly raid on the village of Medfield. Three years ago beavers built a dam and flooded the brook, an event I captured with a digital camera. This year the beavers and dam are gone, and I am using a 4 x 5 large format film camera to realize the beginnings of a beaver meadow that forms when the flood recedes.  Each day is different and the seasons change, and I am here to watch and photograph the life cycle of this pond to a meadow.


The Wellesley College greenhouse, which was built almost a century ago, is tired. The metal supports are rusted, and the glass panels are streaked and weathered. However, the collection of plants is magnificent, and the botanists, who take care of them, are happy to let me take photographs. I find the cacti with their sharp spines irresistible. I’m obsessed with the spots, the stripes, holes, and the colors of the leaves of the tropical plants. Such a lovely contrast to the leafless trees in my yard this winter.


All Dressed Up / Keep it for Luck
These clothes, hats, and personal objects belonged to my mother and my favorite aunt, Florence. Florence designed classic women’s dresses in the 1950’s, while my mother sold girl’s party dresses in the 1970’s. In this portfolio, I photograph the objects alone and make a series of self-portraits wearing their clothes.

My mother didn’t love her wedding dress, as it wasn’t white or fancy. The fragile beige silk gives way, as I arrange it for the camera. Her satin negligee shimmers with its pinked seams, hand-sewn zipper, and pleated bodice. Her long line bra molded her to the ideal shape pictured in Ladies Home Journal.

Florence carried crocodile and beaded handbags, each with a pocket mirror and a tissue to blot her lipstick. Though intelligent and educated in Paris, she was superstitious. She saved wish bones and collected fig hands to ward off the evil eye. She knew with hard work and good luck, she could make a killing.

Beaver Swamp
The beavers came to Rocky Narrows two years ago and plugged up Sewall Brook. The beavers don’t care that Rocky Narrows is the first and premier property of the Trustees of Reservations; don’t care that their dam has made a muddy mess of the trails leading to King Phillip’s Overlook, a magnificent view of the Charles River named for the Wampanoag Indian chief who unsuccessfully confronted the English colonists; and don’t care that the brook they dammed was named for Samuel Sewall, the infamous Salem witch trial judge. The beavers are there to chew down trees and saplings, make their dam, and flood the place.

The resulting landscape is surprising with its dying trees and bright green mud. A swamp quickly replaced the forest, followed by wood ducks, red-winged blackbirds, and mosquitos. This place smells more like the underside of a rotting log than the sweet scent of pine trees. The quiet is broken by the sounds of startled ducks and woodpeckers rummaging for food. Neither the place nor my photographs are conventionally pretty. But this is my place, which I pass each day when I walk my dog.

Nauset Inlet
No trees. No breeze. No distortions.

Just water, rocks, sand, and sky.