I am filled with questions about my beginnings...

Why do I tower over my sisters, brothers, even my father? Why do certain melodies bring instant tears, while others a smile and nod of recognition? Where did I get the gene that makes me examine everything as if under a microscope? Have memories of minute details, but never the whole picture?

My mother died when I was fourteen years old. She, too, towered over her sisters, a giant among shorter people, thin and graceful. "The Queen," they called her, and all her children were royalty. She was held apart, revered, catered to in hushed whispers: "We have to HURRY. Aunt Elizabeth is WAITING."

"Are You My Mother?", a series in progress, is my attempt to categorize the forces which shaped me. Somehow, by making pictures of the women I've been told my mother was, and of the people who filled her days, I'm gradually uncovering the answers to questions which have haunted me for more than half my life.

Painting these posthumous portraits is providing a link for me. It's about glancing back, but also looking forward, and catching a glimpse of what my future holds.

Happily, these paintings seem to stir memories for many people of my generation, depicting a time in our lives when the security of a simpler life, and strong family bonds were the rules, rather than the exceptions. Many viewers note a certain similarity to a beloved family photograph, and not just a few bring their photos to me, as inspiration for a commission.

This series, and all my work, is dedicated to my mother, Elizabeth Pollard Galvin, and her legacy of strength, determination, and hopefulness.