Only recently did I dare paint Margaretha Priester, a memory deeply imbedded in my psyche and sometimes hidden from the light.  The fear and sadness I felt at the loss of my piano teacher when I was only 10 years old could never be erased from my memory.  Margeretha was among the three Jews our family hid in our house. She was a musical genius who had taught at the Berlin Music Conservatory. One night my mother had a premonition, an ominous dream. My parents tried to find another hiding place for the three Jews with the help of the Dutch Underground. Two places were found for the men, but not for Margaretha. Three weeks later the Gestapo came to our house. They held a gun to my head, forcing me to sit and be quiet. I saw her leaving. The Germans took Margaretha to Auschwitz, to the gas chambers. In my painting of the capture of Margaretha Priester, and next to a fading piano, a black dog appears which later reminded me of the mythical Egyptian god, Anubis, who takes the soul to the other side.I am now at peace with my memory. I think my painting of Margaretha leaves an important legacy of her story. In painting my most tragic personal experience I have recorded the sacrifices and losses  that occurred throughout WW II. [Margaretha Priester]

   During this time of terror, malnutrition began to show in our weakened bodies. I’m hungry all the time.I’m eight years old and I don’t understand why my mother has taken my dolls and books and lockedthem in a cupboard. I’m not allowed to touch or play with them. I remember being angry and hurt. My mother tries to explain to me why I can’t have my toys and books, but what she says only scares me. One by one I watch my dolls and books disappear to be traded for food. Many years later, as an adult, I painted my memory of the locked cupboard. While I painted I again felt my anguish at the loss of my childish toys. My image is reflected in the glass as I look longingly at my dolls and books. In my memory these precious childhood things become larger than life and take on a surreal quality. What was I attempting to do? I believe, through my painting, I have unraveled the mystery of this memory to heal that time in my life and to touch others with my story. (Mother’s Secret – acrylic painting)  I moved to America with my mother to join my sister and her family six years after WWII. I lived in a desert where I learned to see color in a whole new way, reminding me of when Van Gogh went to France. Here my journey in art and music began in earnest.  I feel the purpose of myths, memories and dreams is to bring a deeper meaning into our lives. My entire adult life has been focused on this personal journey, through my paintings, into the mysterious. Joseph Campbell writes, “The artist is the myth maker of our times.”-Thea Robertshaw-