Over the years I have experimented in many art forms – instrumental and vocal music, theatre, dance, writing, stained glass, fiber arts, and on and on. These interests led me to a Bachelor of Arts degree in Fine Arts Administration and many long hours as performer, teacher, administrator, volunteer, costumer, publicity person, grant writer, and overall arts advocate.

In 1998 I was in the midst of a deep depression. I heard Harry Chapin’s song “Flowers are Red”, a derisive view of the way in which we often limit our children’s creativity under the guise of education. The text of the chorus quotes a teacher, explaining to a young boy:

“Flowers are red young man.

Green leaves are green.

There’s no need to see flowers any other way

than the way they always have been seen.”

I cried uncontrollably for hours given that I had experienced this attitude many times throughout my life, to the point that I refused to consider myself an artist. I awoke the next morning thinking, “I have to paint”. I turned the music up loud and painted for hours. When I was done, I left all the paintings in the kitchen and ignored them. A friend walked in, turned them around a bit and declared “This is a triptych!” News to me. Thus began my transition from performing arts into visual arts.

Eventually I had a pile of paintings. My impulse was to throw them away. I couldn’t stand to have them around. They were so wild and different, so unexplainable. I finally realized I didn’t have to explain when my parents began a heated discussion over my then current work. They turned it in all 4 directions, arguing over which way was up, and what they saw, and how it made them feel. Then they took it home. After this, friends and family alike began vehemently defending their view of the subject matter. My piles of canvases began to disappear. I was mystified, yet honored.

The abstract form works well for me. It allows me to capture a color, a mood, a movement, a feeling. It allows you to interpret these within the context of your own joys, sorrows, and experience. I paint when the spirit moves me, when I feel I can express myself in no other way, when words are one-dimensional. My work is very abstract – a direct result of my method. I cannot explain the process. I simply do it. It’s as if I open myself and color comes pouring out. I hear the music, but I am not listening. I see the colors and patterns, but I am not looking. If I think too much, it’s ruined. When I’m done, I “feel” it. It is a very spontaneous and freeing experience, one that I believe we are all capable of but few people allow.

After my children were born, I gave up painting for diapers, formula, sporadic sleep and lots of “firsts”. First tooth, first step, first “paint – the - wall - with - mom’s - lipstick”. Painting in front of the children was dangerous. So, I chose something far more dangerous – but more easily isolated. At least that’s what I tell myself when I’m rationalizing. I now "paint" in several mediums, including glass. I married my love of stained glass with my love of painting and began experimenting with bead making and a kiln.

This site is dedicated to my most recent paintings... in glass. I specialize in dichroic glass, splitting my energies between fusing and lampworking. I love the depth I can achieve and the interplay of color and light that is wonderfully showcased in dichroic. I still paint in a more traditional method (acrylics), but I far prefer the changeable nature of glass. Just as glass is “alive” and moves over time, so too does dichroic – the flash and change are intense and immediate, commensurate with the flash and change of human experience and emotion. The color of dichroic is spectacular, but the nature of dichroic is awe inspiring. Capturing the awe has become my passion.

I guess my philosophy comes down to this:

Art is imagination.

Art is emotional seduction.

Art is communication for the soul.

The appreciation of art just proves that, sometimes, humans can share an experience without requiring shared language, or ideology, or even permission.

Happy imaginings.

~Cristine

I began singing at the age of 2. Seated on a church pew, legs dangling, with an upside down hymnal in my lap, I sang and sang. This was glorious. This was freedom. This was everything. This was the soul of creation. This was also my first clear memory. After that, music and the arts became intrinsic to my life. Music is still my catalyst and almost constant companion.