My interest in pysanky began when I was eight years old. I lived in what is now known as Ukrainian Village in Chicago. I lived on the same city block or within a block or two of, Delta Ukrainian Import and Export store, Ann's Bakery, Ukrainian owned grocery stores, restaurants, and The Ukrainian Museum. In all these facilities were the eggs. They were displayed in storefronts, or on countertops, and I was fascinated.

So fascinated, that on one of my walks to the corner drug store I passed a window where a lady was sitting working on the eggs. I came to a dead stop I'd never seen anyone actually do them. This was a dream come true. I stared and watched and tried to see everything she was doing and using. I knew at that moment I just had to do them too. Then the lady stood up and started toward the window where I was standing. I took off. I thought she was to coming to scold me. I ran to the drug store and made the purchase my parents sent me for. Then I had to pass the storefront, the lady, the eggs, it was then that I made a promise to learn to do those eggs.
I spent many years after that trying to duplicate the eggs I'd seen in those stores. I was without training, and I didn't have the tools, I had Paas Egg Kits, but that didn't stop me. At one point I was boiling crepe paper to make my dyes, and I melted down anything and everything that was wax. My first kistka, was made with, metal forming a cone shape, and the wire from a coat hanger was wrapped around to form the handle. It wasn't until the early 70's when my mother found a book describing the technique and the materials needed that I was finally able to create and keep my promise to do those eggs.

In some form I work on my eggs daily. I may be draining, writing, dyeing, varnishing, or planning my next design on a quail, chicken, goose, rhea, or an ostrich egg. The fascination with these eggs is still there.

While growing up in the Ukrainian neighborhood, I met a young Ukrainian named Tom. We married in 1965, had three children, and now are the grandparents of five grandsons.
Tom helps me with my artwork by taking photos of my eggs. Tom's interest isn't with pysanky, but with flint knapping. He knaps Indian arrowheads, and provides those interested in this art with novaculite. The novel twist in our relationship, and our artwork is; he's Ukrainian and flint knaps Indian arrowheads, while I'm of Cherokee descent, creating Ukrainian eggs.

In 1994, I was able to go back to the store where the decision to do the eggs was made, and I met Marie. I told Marie about the lady in the window during the Easter season of 1956, and how I made the promise to do the eggs. After some time of telling Marie about all my achievements with the eggs, she took me in her arms and said, "I'm that lady".