Goose Creek, Texas, where I grew up, was populated with eccentric characters and horned toads.

As a young child, I spent time with my grandfather in his small workshop where he whittled fanciful shapes with rolling balls inside and told tales of the time he spent with an Indian tribe in Arizona. He knotted animal puppets to act out the adventures, using the large handkerchief that was always in his pocket. My grandmother didn’t need recipes since her cooking was divinely inspired. When she was in the kitchen, you could tell by the swarms of angels visible above the exhaust vent.

Aunt Mabel appeared to be straight laced and proper, but she was actually a little twisted. Once she learned the art of decoupage, no surface was safe, not even the lampshades. She made killer whiskey balls every Christmas.

Mabel’s sister, Bessie, was part garden sprite. She collected rain in all sorts of precariously placed containers. Any plant she watered blossomed on cue and she fashioned the results into peculiar but charming arrangements and left them around for unsuspecting visitors to find. She took special pride in her ornamental cotton, grown from seed.

Daily Mass attendance was required at my Catholic elementary school. The experience provided enduring impressions. The sensory stimuli of that church are still vivid: smoky incense; Holy water dipped from a cold marble vessel; painted wooden statues draped in black for Lent, but bright and banked with flowers on Easter; creaking floorboards and barely audible mumblings coming from the shadowy confessionals. Nuns, priests and even altar boys wore elaborate costumes and the ceremony was mysterious and intriguing despite the fact that it was said in Latin that none of us understood.

Both of my parents were remarkably creative and inspiring. Amid a house full of books on everything from history and mythology to magic tricks and cake decoration they encouraged curiosity and expression. My father still compiles diary-scrapbooks that are more art than scrap. My mother makes beautifully designed quilts. She also possesses an unerring eye for spotting nut cases and she can predict certain events before they happen. (This gift, unfortunately, cannot be activated upon demand.)

My work is primarily the result of these influences. I am fascinated by nature—animals, birds, insects, botanical and biological reference books and ornamental cotton. I am captivated by history, the mysteries of religions and by costumes. I appreciate a fine whiskey ball, a well-whittled whimsy, an occasional angel swarm, and an insightful nut-case sighting. I am confident in the knowledge that some events can be explained and predicted even before they happen and others can’t, and shouldn’t, be explained at all.