INTRODUCTION: Often an artist gets her inspiration from something in her imagination, but sometimes, she simply `finds' an object  on the street and that starts her to thinking and creating.  This sculptor found a movie theater in a big city as it was being demolished and the big metal letters on its sign were lying on the ground.  So she asked if she could have those letters, which bore the name of the theater, the RIALTO.  And from them she formed this sculpture named RIOT. 

THE STORY: 'Neigh,' Riot sniffed gently in the wind and shook his imaginary mane.  'Neigh,' he said again.  His sturdy legs, weathered by the elements, pawed at the ground as he waited.  Someone was coming; he could feel it.  Maybe it was Her.  As he glanced over his shoulder at the large R on his back, he thought again of the rest of his letters.  How he missed them!  Oh sure, the I and the O and the T were there, enmeshed in the curves of his body, but where were the rest?  He felt like there was something missing in his life and could only remember in the fuzziest way what it might be.  He did remember light bulbs, flashing on and off, but that was about it, except that every once in awhile he seemed to hear laughter of people as they walked by.  Sometimes there were people blowing their noses in their handkerchiefs too, as if they had just had a good cry.  He knew he had not always been in this meadow.  And he did remember Her.  He remembered the way Her hands had gently picked up some of his letters and saved them from the trash heap.  He remembered how She had carried them carefully to her truck and driven them to Her gigantic studio.  He remembered how She had formed them into his body.  Oh sure, sometimes it had hurt just a little when She used her tools to forge them into just the right shape.  But now here he was, happy and carefree and safe in his new home, transformed from whatever it was that he used to be into the most beautiful horse in the world (at least that was what she had whispered to him when she hugged him and left him in his meadow).  But he did miss A and L so much!  They used to be such an important part of him.  And now where were they?  There was someone coming! He stretched out his long neck and looked as far into the distance as he could.  But it was only a passing car; it wasn't Her.  It wasn't the Creator.  Perhaps he would never see Her again and never know the mystery of the missing letters.  Oh well, at least he was still alive.  He sighed and whinnied gently.

Author's Statement

I am a storyteller because it is in my genes! Both my mother and my sister were actresses and very early, I knew that I wanted to be on the stage. Even in summer camp, I was in every show that came along. As a student at SUNY Albany (New York), I was an English/Theater major and my first teaching job in Baltimore included an extra curricular job as director of the Senior Play. After moving to Delaware, I raised my family but never lost the theater bug. I got a part at Candlelight Music Dinner Theatre and was hooked once again. For the past 40 years, I have acted and/or directed in over 20 area community theaters. All this was done in my "spare time" because I had several full time positions in state government from the House of Representatives to Delaware Tech. When I retired, I was able to fulfill a long held ambition. While I had training in theater, music and dance - I knew little about the world of art. So I applied to become a docent at the Delaware Art Museum. That was a turning point in my life which has enriched me tenfold. Now I was able to combine my love of art and storytelling - what fun!