For the past forty years I have walked a line between abstraction and representation. Personal, nostalgic, and intensely focused, my paintings are of things as I remember them, where - and when - the odd meets the familiar. I grew up in post-war Los Angeles, the daughter of the renowned concert violinist Israel Baker (who was responsible for the screeching violins of the shower scene in Hitchcock's Psycho). I have a host of indelible recollections, among them the towering female leg atop the Sanderson Hosiery Building (immortalized in an iconic photo by Max Yavno), the gasworks along the 101 freeway, and Gerald McBoing-Boing, the wordless child in Jules Engel's cartoons. I've drawn upon these memories for the subjects of my paintings: animals and buildings found in historic Los Angeles locales, posed against a horizon-less backdrop in often bitingly acidic palettes.  The work is painted with matte, flat, highly saturated acrylic, a technique derived from my work in both the animation and the textile industry early in my career when designs were hand-painted. To create dimensionality, I often employ a wood grain effect to give the impression of material and texture. From my perspective as the painter, I consider my subjects portraits, and therefore present them face on, looming above the viewers, or glancing at them obliquely - but always unflinchingly, with unblinking clarity. I work in the space between meaning and uncertainty, where everything extraneous is eliminated, nothing is equivocal, and nothing is random.