The single event which has most informed and directed my art making was becoming a mother. When I became a mother, my life changed. As a result, much of the work I am most compelled to create is specific to issues of gender and class and involves a dialogue that examines social constructs. The Motherhood Blanket addresses the ambivalence I personally feel in my role as a mother. There are no words large enough to describe what it is to be a mother. The disappointments can be as deep as the joys. It is profound and raw, and it is forever. Mothering persists and is rarely convenient. It goes. It is never done, and never gone. The Motherhood Blanket began when my daughter and her baby son moved home. For several months my studio became the couch where balls of pink yarn were knitted into breasts with long stretchy nipples – like the ones you have when you are nursing a baby. The blanket is about feeding and comfort and expansive needs. It is soft. Heavy. It begs: to be touched, pinched, swallowed. It is raw. The pink is raw, and it is sex. It is intimacy revealed, both of lover, child and flesh. Motherhood is: touching, holding, covering to protect, covering to hide. It blankets. It is endless. It is love, no matter.