In time, this spot right here will include a more complete bio about our daughter, Talia.  Right now, we've been on a big push to make her art available to the world as the 3rd anniversary of her death approaches (Feb. 20, 2014), and that means that we haven't yet written a proper "about Talia" page, even though we think it is very important to do so!  (It's also incredibly hard to do--heart wrenching, really, to have to think about how to write a bio on our dead daughter, whom we loved so much and who died so tragically the day after a surgery.) 

So while we haven't yet tackled this page on her website, suffice it to say, for now, that she was just an extraordinary being of light, and all who knew her well (and I really mean all), miss her so much.  She was petite, but broad shouldered, athletic, driven, creative, determined, open, spontaneous, superstitious, warm, helpful, thoughtful, in touch with every part of her being--body, mind and spirit.  She was a bouncy, energetic kid who grew into a lovely and loving young woman with crazy curly red/strawberry blonde/penny colored hair, big blue eyes, and truly the longest eyelashes I've ever seen on anybody.  

Talia also had EDS (Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome), a rare disease that caused a lot of problems over the years--although we didn't know it was EDS for a long time.  EDS/hypermobility type is a disease of laxity in the joints, a disease involving disordered collagen--the connective tissue of the body; and Talia was our loosey-goosey kid whose nickname from her aunt, ironically, was "Stretch."  Over time, Talia's neck became a source of pain, discomfort, and serious trouble, and ultimately she needed a multiple-level fusion of her upper cervical spine to help give her neck the stability it was lacking. Unfortunately, things went very wrong--she had breathing difficulties from the time she got out of surgery--and the next day her airway occluded. She was without air for so long that she was left comatose and died on her 10th day in the hospital. 

Talia was working on art literally up to the moment she died. She took her last water color and pen piece with her to the hospital as well as markers to decorate the neck collar she would be in for the next several months. When we returned to her home after her surgery, it was a factory-land of "creation," with stations set up in the living room, dining room, and studio where she was working on multiple different types of projects.  On this website, we focus primarily on her 2D watercolor and pen pieces, as they are the most replicable.  Her metal sculptures were deep and expressive, her textile work, accordion book series and cards were whimsical and sweet, her print-making original and expressive.  (We hope to post photos of these other works in time.)  We hope that you will love seeing her art, and that, if you choose to purchase some, it will remind you of the spirited young woman Talia was--a person who loved life, loved her family, loved to kick some ass on a soccer field, loved to spend time with friends and family, and always, always, was creating something new.  She was a wonder.

We have chosen to leave her artist statement here, intact, as she wrote it herself just months before she died.  Below it, we have posted a slideshow that is a retrospective of her life.  We hope you will get a sense of the Talia we loved so much.  

Please feel free to write any comments about Talia or her art, or contact us.   We love hearing from people, and though Talia's ability to exist in the world was stripped from her, her art and her story carry on here, with you.  

Naomi and Jeff (Talia's parents)


Talia's Artist Statement


I am a body-inspired, body-based artist, located in Eugene, OR. Since I first became chronically ill at the age of 11, I have used art as a processing tool. As a seventh grader, I began creating abstract pastel pieces to convey some of the physical sensations I couldn't describe with words. Though my media, techniques, and skills have developed since then, the concept behind my work is much the same. I create art to express what is going on in my body. Through art, I can explore my relationship to pain, fear, and the emotional discomfort of medical unknowns.  In all of my work, 2D and 3D alike, I let my body's discomfort and my mind's distress help lead me through each piece.