| When I was little, I was fascinated by the nursery rhyme, "There was an old lady who lived under a hill...and if she's not gone, she lives there still." I was intrigued by the possibility of a mysterious old woman who lived in a cozy little cavehouse. I wanted to go visit her! Unfortunately, on our flat farmland, our only "hill" was a slight slope behind two old apple trees. In early spring, my favorite walk was to this spot to see green grasses emerging from tangled brown stalks. If you listened carefully you could hear the hill bubbling and snapping with new life. "Ohio House 1", colored pencil on paper, explores my lifelong feelings for hills in early spring - and the elusive old lady who might live there still. | 
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