My initial foray as an artist took place in high school. Growing up in the age of Aquarius
meant taking an art class where I experimented with batiking, silk screening, macramé,
weaving and tie dyeing. While I did really well with macramé and silk screening, I was
intrigued by and drawn to the batik. I loved the changing stages of the fabric, and the
smell of the paraffin mixed with beeswax during both the painting and the ironing
process. As graduation loomed so did my afro and revolutionary leanings. I was voted
‘Most Militant Female’ of my senior class and my teachers thought I would major in
either political science or art.
In my first college psychology class the one theorist who had the most profound impact
on my thinking was Abraham Maslow and his ideas on human motivation. As an 18 year-
old college student, Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs just made sense to me. So I spent
many years experiencing what I thought was self-actualization or searching for that
experience.
My next structured experience with art was a class that I took in 1975 in Coconut Grove.
It was a disaster. When the class reviewed weaving, the instructor took my weaving loom
and held it up in front of the class and screamed that they should never, ever, construct
their loom the way I had. I never returned to the class.
In the late 70s and early 80s there was college, children, and career. When my daughters
were young I developed an interest in Victoriana. I started to make band boxes that I
covered with fabrics, lace sachets, and lace hearts that I stuffed with potpourri. As my
home economics teacher had proclaimed back in the 70s “Valerie, you just can’t sew!” I
was stuck making all of the items by hand, which was tedious but enjoyable. My kids
would give these hand made items to their teachers and one Mother’s Day I made fifteen
lace hearts for their classmates to give as gifts.
Ironically, around this time my favorite Aunt took an early retirement from government
service and rekindled a hobby of making dolls by hand. She was raised by my great-
grandmother, the only girl among the six grandchildren being raised on a farm in the
Carolinas. My great-grandmother taught my aunt how to make dolls as something to
occupy her time when the boys wouldn’t allow her to participate in their games. When
my grandmother died I had my first opportunity to see my aunt’s work, which was
phenomenal. Each year after that, I would take my daughters to visit my aunt and would
spend time as my aunt’s ‘young apprentice’ learning her techniques for creating dolls by
hand. Many of my aunt’s friends are artists who use different mediums. My visits would
include trips to their studios and exposure to their work. Returning home I relished the
opportunity to work with textiles to create dolls, band boxes, and shawls. The work of my
aunt and her friends was very African-centered and this focus fit perfectly with who I was
and what I was interested in. Around this time I also entered a doctoral program in public
administration. As my life as a scholar grew so did my interest in doll making. I started to
collect beads in the 90s and would on occasion make a bracelet for a doll I was creating.
Then one day I decided I would make a bracelet for myself. Slowly I started to find
myself exploring the bead aisle in my favorite craft store. Any bead collector will tell you
that the line between collecting and obsession is very easy to cross, so discovering beads
almost provides more of a thrill than actually designing once you’ve found them.
I’m convinced that my art enhances my thinking and as my tastes overall have always
been eclectic, when in idea is sparked, whether it is designing something with fabrics, or
beads, clay, or paper, I follow the spark in whatever direction it takes me. In a perfect
world, I would be able to combine my artistic endeavors with my academic endeavors,
but this is an elusive dream. One of my multi-media dolls, “End the War Girl” appeared
on the back cover of a symposium, Governments, Governance, and War: What We
Learned in Iraq.
There is a point during the creative process where you feel very satisfied with what you
have produced and even though I learned during my doctoral studies that there isn’t much
empirical validation of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, I have identified that artistic
moment as self-actualization. I’m always searching for that moment.
My work is the continuation of a family tradition passed from my great-grandmother to
my aunt and then to me, it validates the creativity that has existed in my family for over a
century and I believe it provides a legacy for future generations.
This is why I do what I do.