We feature a new member each month. Click here for past member spotlights.
![]() Catherine in her studio | Walking into the library at Evergreen, it became immediately clear that Catherine was right at home. Hanging on the meeting room wall hung one of her art pieces, photographed and framed. Not all that long ago, this is where she earned her BA in Media Arts & Creative Nonfiction. Catherine’s path as an artist began as a journey of discovery. She didn’t know in 1985, when she traveled to China and Tibet, that this was more than an adventure—it was her calling. Learning about her work relies on this context. —Diane Miller |
Can you talk a little bit about your decision to go to China and its connection to your artistic journey?
I always wanted to be a writer, but when I was in high school, I also wanted to be a botanical illustrator. I went to the University of Oregon to study art and creative writing, but I didn’t know how to become a botanical illustrator. I didn’t know how to get help to figure this out. I didn’t have money to continue my studies, so I moved to Seattle and did all sorts of jobs—mostly baking and cooking.
When I was 23 years old, I decided to go to China. I knew nothing about it—in fact, I had never been out of this country. But I had a strong feeling, or intuition. I was driven. I worked two jobs, and I lived on $400/month. I started learning about China, got a giant map, and started plotting where I wanted to go. The trip was going to be a pilgrimage to Kuan-yin—visiting all her sacred places. I also wanted to see the Temple of Heaven, where the heavenly world and the earthly world met.
Why Kuan-yin?
There are not many female deities with the power and following of Kuan-yin. As a feminist and a lesbian, I had to know more. When I talked to Chinese refugees in Seattle, I heard their stories of how Kuan-yin saved them. It called to me in some way. Kuan-yin hears the prayers of the world, and I wanted someone to hear mine.
Did the trip turn out the way you planned?
It did and so much more. My friend Connie joined me; we traveled by train and boat, and went on to Tibet, Nepal, and Japan. We traveled both inside and outside the big cities. This trip changed my life.
I returned to Seattle, but a year later I went back to Japan to live and travel with a woman I met at the Dyke Dinner in Tokyo—but that’s a whole other story. Our travels took us through many low-key Asian countries, and I found that resonated with me. After a few years, when I returned to the States, I moved to Vashon Island because it had that same low-key flavor. I stayed on Vashon for 19 years.
How did that trip affect your artwork?
I wasn’t making artwork when I went—it’s surprising to me now. Right before I left for China, I saw a framed piece of Japanese Chiyogami paper, and I was stunned. It was so beautiful, I immediately connected with it. Then, when I was in Japan, I bought a bunch of paper.
When I returned, I learned how to do letterpress printing, but didn’t think I could acquire my own studio. It was several years later, when someone had a press to sell, and someone else offered to share their studio space, that it all started to come together.
How did you discover book arts?
I was introduced through an acquaintance. She told me that Laughing Dog Press on Vashon Island (where I lived at the time) needed volunteers. All of it sounded interesting to me, so I showed up. I loved it from the first minute and made friends for life.
Tell us about one of your favorite books.
There are so many! The favorite book that comes to mind right now is Trial by Fire. It was inspired by the inattention that happens during perimenopause. Maybe some of the readers can relate. The hot pads printed with the red coils of an electric burner are embroidered with mind/body experiences women face now, as they did centuries ago, when such symptoms could lead to being burned as a witch.

Trial By Fire
What motivates you in your creative life? And what gets in the way? Writing! If something is taboo, I definitely get excited to write about it and make a book. I love to write poetry and creative non-fiction. Writing was what got me interested in printing. I occasionally send work out for publication, but most of the time, it is writing for my own books. Writing makes me feel happy, even when the writing is hard or on difficult topics. Besides printing with a press, I also print by hand from wood slabs and rounds. I stitch into cloth and consider myself part of a movement called subversive stitching. I often spill out of my print studio and use the whole house—printing by hand at the kitchen table and sewing in all the spaces. Curating for a collector as well as for exhibitions has had a huge influence. I have seen thousands of books now. I have so many more likes and dislikes, but mostly inspiration. Working an outside job and getting studio work done is difficult. On top of that, I have injuries to my body that make it difficult to print, bind, or sew as much as I’d like to. I have recently retired from my job as curator for the Cynthia Sears Artists’ Book Collection at BIMA. It was becoming hard on my body in multiple ways, and that made it even more difficult to do my studio work. So, I am just getting back into finding my structure and rhythm and getting this ironed out. What words best describe you? Mystic, feminist, and foodie. What’s your next project? Bitter on the Inside is a show I’ll be hanging in March 2026 at Bar Francis in Olympia. It will be broadsides featuring coffee cups from my cupboards. When I was going through the final years of perimenopause, coffee started giving me hot flashes. Ironically, I wasn’t much into coffee until it was giving me problems. Then it was as if my coffee mugs were mocking me, daring me to drink coffee. I started making the broadsides with the one-liners I imagined the cups were saying to me. Perimenopause and menopause are no joke, but this did bring levity to the issue and helped me take a difficult time and create something positive from it. Every month, I print a postcard micro-memoir issue titled An Unreliable Lesbian centered around my coming out as a lesbian (or an unreliable lesbian) beginning in my early teens. I am always writing and printing for this monthly edition. I also have an occasional ongoing series of broadsides I print with Felix Zyrna around the language and issues of trans people. I have the most fun printing with Felix. I am making a second version of Trial by Fire, and I’m working towards a PSBA 15-year exhibition entry. And finally, I’m working on a book collaboration with Felix. That’s a lot of work! Tell us about the place where it all happens. Give us a tour of your studio. My studio was once a garage, but now it has French doors and windows. I have a Vandercook 4 that I use for printing almost everything, a 10 x 15 C&P, a small Kelsey tabletop, and a tabletop sign press. For the first 20 years, printing and making were something I did that came in between my other work as a caregiver for people at the end of their lives. I don’t like the pressure of being a full-time artist at all; I prefer to keep it in balance with other things. Catherine’s Studio What has been your connection to PSBA? I was on the founding board and have always loved PSBA’s commitment to teaching at the most basic level. Even though I was well past the basics when PSBA started, I love that everyone is welcome. It is a great place to learn the ropes for not just making, but also learning to be a professional artist. For example, the annual exhibition prospectus takes you through the ropes of an application and de-mystifies (I hope) the process. Describe your perfect day. It begins with writing, breakfast, and coffee. Then I take a long walk in warm, but not hot weather, with someone who loves to chat. I hold on to and play with my grandchildren, who always stay under the age of one. I walk in the garden, check on my plants, and give them love. Printing or art-making for the rest of the work day, but I take a break with treats when a friend I dearly love comes by. I walk in the garden again. (I’ve been a master gardener for a long time now.) In the evening, I eat dinner, maybe watch a show or movie. And I might be shown an amazing artist book that makes me plan the next day’s creative efforts. I cuddle up to my sweetie and read before sleep. I’d want to include a nap sometime in there, even if it would be longer than 24 hours to do it all—it wouldn’t be perfect if I couldn’t do it all. |
If you would like to nominate a member for a Spotlight feature or would like to participate yourself, please email info@pugetsoundbookartists.org.