I was born at 9:30PM, on September 20th, 1975 at St. John's Hospital, Friedmont, IL. I was given the name Edith after my great grandmother on my mother's side. I weighted a healthy 8lbs 6 ounces, and I had a full head of beautiful brown hair.

Me at age 3 with my newborn sister Judy Anne. I was jealous when Judy Anne was first brought home because she was the center of attention. I am smiling here because my mother made me. I was actually quite unhappy to have a sibling to compete for attention with. Fortunately I was still the favorite child because I showed a strong sense of creativity from the beginning, and my mother, a painter, saw me as a promising artist. I think Judy Anne held that against me for most of my life.

My first trip to Washington D.C. We had a wonderful time walking up and down the stairs of the National Monument. I was so happy to run around the water. My parents were upset when I talked to a homeless person in the park. They told me never to talk to a stranger again.

This is Judy Anne on our first trip to New York. We both knew at that point that art was meant for us. We really liked the “I Spy” children's exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art. We drew with crayons. I drew a man with a top hat riding a bike in the ocean next to dolphins. Judy Anne drew a flower. My parents kept those pictures and they are framed and hanging on the walls of the study.

This image was taken after my sister experienced the most horrible experience of her life. Soon after the trip to New York, Judy Anne went missing for 12 days. She was found with a man named Roger Daulton in Johnstown, IL 27 miles from our home. The police arrested Mr. Daulton and returned Judy Anne to our house. She was traumatized for the rest of her childhood. No one knows exactly what events took place during her leave, but she never smiled for a photograph again. She was kidnapped right out front of or house on a peaceful suburban street in Friedmont. Although this was a horrible experience in the lives of our family members, I think that this is my ultimate inspiration for my artwork.

My parents began to have marital problems when I was about 7 years old. They divorced when I was nine, and my mother got remarried to her psychologist 2 years later. This is a photograph of my imeditae family at my mother's second wedding.

This is my best friend Tracy. She was like a sister to me. We played make-believe all the time when we were little. One time when we were walking home from school a man in a truck exposed himself to us. From that point on we rode the bus to school. Our mom's wouldn't let us walk anymore.

This is my 9th grade school photo. It was an awkward stage of live for me. All of the boys made fun of the way I looked and it made me more introverted. One boy liked me and one time we kissed in the woods behind my house. After he kissed me he hit me. That was my first sexual experience and it turned me away from boys for a long time.

This is a picture of my parents and me before my sister was born. These were the best family times of my life. I used to play in the yard while my dad did yard work. One time he was lying on his back and I started to cry because I though he was dead. But it turned out that he was working on the car.

This is a picture of me and my grandparents (mother's side). I always liked going to their house. They would give me cookies and candy and let me watch movies until I fell asleep. My mother never approved, but never said anything to them. She just complained to my Dad.

This is a picture of me after I moved in with my grandparents. After my parents got divorced, my Dad became an alcoholic and my mom never let us see him anymore. My mom and her psychologist started to travel a lot, and began to ignore Judy Anne and myself. So my grandparents made us move in with them. I didn't see my mother for a few years after that. My grandma always said that she was on a business trip. My grandpa told me that she was in Paris with Bob (the shrink).

This is a photograph from my first performance at art school. I drank soda and burped as a feminist statement about etiquette. My professors didn't understand it and gave me a failing grade.

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