About the Artist
of my costume
construction for competition presentation
|I wasn't very
promising as a child, . . .
. . I had 'Attention Deficit / Hyperactive
Disorder', and still have it to a degree.
Back then they didn't have a name (or a
kick-back drug) for it, so they just called me
'unruly' and 'stupid' because I was unable to
keep my mind on task (and little girls aren't
supposed to be unruly, you see). My
rampant imagination was a wild horse and I was
super-glued to its back, with no choice but to
go where ever it wanted to take me.
Later, as I grew, I developed
some self-discipline and learned to focus and
concentrate on the tasks at hand.
During high school I attended
a vocational school that was being offered,
after having enthusiastically quit the typing
and home-ec classes that my parents rather
loudly insisted that I take, since I had
neither desire nor aptitude to be clerical or
domestic. At this school I studied
photography, black and white darkroom work,
and advertising layout and composition.
always been one of my great passions.
History, mythology and folklore of various
cultures have all now become inextricably woven
and integrated parts of my personal 'data
base'. The fantastic and the surreal hold
strong sway over nearly everything I do, whether
it's prose, fine art, or mask and costume
||So, by now my imagination is a
powerful muscle that I exercise and wield at my
will. And though I have endured no formal
art training, I dislike the term
'self-taught' -- how can you 'teach' yourself
what you don't know?
I obsess over the
conversations between colors, and I trip out
over textures, contours and the powers of
negative vs. positive space.
I study art on my own and
continue to loiter in museums to analyze
palettes and brush strokes, and I get
"harumphed" at by museum guards who think that
maybe three inches between my nose and the
painting behind the stanchions is a little too
( did you know that "harumph"
in Danish sounds just like "harumph" in
Now, about all those masks, .
Several years ago my wonderful
sister-in-law gave me a tiny wall-mask made of
leather. I was instantly hooked. I
didn't know any mask makers, and at the time I
couldn't find any books on the subject (The
Internet was still on its training
wheels). My only recourse was to invest
money, time and effort (and calluses, cuts,
and blisters); I bought a dozen or so
different kinds of leather and blindly
experimented with them,....
Nothing worthwhile is ever
achieved without some kind of risk. Bit
by bit, I discovered what would and wouldn't
work and proceeded from there, only to learn
many years later that what I was doing was
exactly what the master mask makers in Italy
had been doing for centuries, . . .
. . . and I learned that
sometimes the old ways are the best.
Mandus, the Merchant of Venice
at right: myself, as the Dame