Possessions, the things that surround me, the objects of my life: these are the things I have chosen to paint. I am immersed in the tools of my existence as a mother: the paring knife, sewing scissors. I paint to possess these items, to deny that they possess me. It is a question of survival. Where does homemaker end and and the painter begin? Is there a seperation? Where is the balance? Who - or what - possess me?