Margaret is human. She makes things with her hands. These things are all symbols of her love of the process of life-her philosophy of touch and the repercussions of it being repeatedly repeated. Her work may seem to some terribly simple or to others amazingly perfect. But
actually it's neither; it's more like Margaret herself-human.
Her work is alive with intricacies, dualities, and history lessons. Her intentions have no roots in polished perfection, no desire to achieve a consistent similarity. Rather, her particular personality comes out in all things she works on. You can read a poem in her stitchings or imagine the life story of her cross-eyed ink doodle.
It depends on how much you are willing to see or how wide your eyes
are open.
Many of the images and words that show up in Margaret's paintings stem from real people and their situations, both historic and contemporary. Her love of railroad trains and the drifters who scratch their names and images onto these steel surfaces inspire Margaret, inducing her heart and mind to communicate a message. That is, as a message is sent out to travel, you never know who it will reach. Margaret is intrigued not only by the strange images these people scrawl onto the trains, but also the mystery that surrounds them. "These people who mark on trains, each one has their own story, and you can feel their intensity through what they are doing. It's a really human thing."
The words which serve as the center or decorative element of her paintings are oftentimes rooted in the extinct slang once used by
railroad workers. This use of dead language is an encoded secret she shares with those who register the duality. Those who see these words as mere simplicity only perceive them singularly. The letterform style in which she paints this slang comes from her life-blood interest and education in
letterpress and printmaking.
