Category Archives: Uncategorized


24 x 28

Untitled Acrylic

Made this work over the last couple of months.  

Just finished it yesterday.

It felt so positive and hopeful…

Today as I look at it, it takes on a different meaning.

Art is a mirror.

Perhaps tomorrow or the next day it will evolve once again.


after 6.75 years

I finally made an artwork about you

It was a different day than most

as I was angry with you

years of saying what a good guy…

now I stand corrected

I drunk with life and you with booze

letting your pain get the best of you

injuring what we had


yes,  you were the one held to the highest esteemFinally

now fallen to the ranks of the broken hearted

stupid sharings, immature reactions

floundered on the school grounds

anger greets me

and I meet it with a scissor and some medium

finally to make a piece about us

In the end I am inspired

Reaching The Potential- How much do you have to give up?

Giving up something can be difficult and personal.  You may be giving up: time with friends, vacations, reading for enjoyment, or even a relationship to make art.  It seems unimaginable to most, but when a passion dictates most of your every move, sometimes there’s no choice.

Personally, my goals rule my life. I wake as early as I can, drink my first cup of coffee and write a thank you list to the Universe. Next, I jot down the steps I will take towards that  potential I’m fighting for, then head upstairs to the studio (currently I’m writing a book) ,or shower before spending the day at school teaching art. I still make art;  just putting the book first these days.

Writing a book sounds like a “fancy” thing to do.  It’s not, I am just trying to help people understand the lives of people who live like artists do. Why? To understand the mystification of art and it’s makers would make the concept and more digestible. Perhaps people will want to buy art, your art, my art. I don’t want all this completed art clogging the walls of my studio… it invades my new ideas. Sales are important, because art is a business too…  It’s not a bad to make money.  

Often, I sit in the studio thinking, I’d like to be at the bar with friends, traveling, or catching up on “Younger” (an addictive t.v. show). However, the drive to grasp the ideas filling my head is pulling on my skirt hem. It’s like being in the middle of a thought all the time…  This kind of energy will need a resting point and soon my mind will pause, and I will catch my breath.

Untitled Encaustic

This piece reminds me of a thought in progress… 9×12″ Encaustic, 2015

Then I will question what I gave up, and try to do it all again.  Perhaps this time I’ll be able to do it all? There’s always hope.


Randy is one of our two baby chickens.  She was named by my son Jake, and well, that says enough.  She and Penelope (my choice for the other) are a breed called, Brahma.  Chicks or Pullets integrating into an existing flock is a difficult process, as bullying is an FullSizeRenderintegral part of the “gang” like membership.  Our daily conversations usually begin with, “The Babies” or “The Big Girls” as we watch them slowly become part of the flock and roam around my house and studio.

Randy is a scaredy cat – afraid of any move the big girls make, running for her dear life as they come near her.  You can her her “honk” all the way in the house if she gets a little peck from our head hen Buffy.  But, Randy is the largest of all our chickens, all of them, and she’s only a baby.  We are always shaking our heads as she doesn’t realize the power she already could have at 5 months old.

Sometimes when I walk past a mirror I stop and look again… I don’t look like I think I should look.  Not that I know what that is.  It happens when I look at a picture and sometimes when I look at my art.  (Looks like somebody else’s art (blog entry)) Does it happen to everyone? I remembering telling my counselor the same thing, years ago.  Like the persona and person are not connected.  Perhaps it’s all the facets of being human.  The many faces we must wear in life… a friend and student in my Wednesday night class is working on a piece dealing with all the masks she wears in a day.

My body is petite, my personality grand, my artwork is not subtle, and then I have the responsibilities of being a single mom, teacher, business owner, girlfriend, daughter, animal keeper, and the like.  We all have these parts that make our whole.  But, do we really know who we are? What we are?FullSizeRender (1)

That outer image is not necessarily our reality but, it is a big part of what others think of us.  And that, sometimes is important for us to see as we may be much bigger then we think we are.


Finish Lines Don’t Exist

Shouting out to my family and friends who have watched me take a little dream and make it real.

Driving by that old red barn, sitting next to the pink house on route 9 made us look twice.  Even at closing when the owners never really moved out at all, leaving their toothbrushes, silverware, dishes, and rugs all behind…
The place where every sweat drip, brush stroke, shovel strike was mostly mine. Sacred circles carved in the woods, favorite pets who passed feed the ground, Jake’s silly tree hugs… This is my sanctuary, my heart space.

The Barn has it’s own obvious progression. Taking someone’s sacred, creative, hive and altering it to become yours is a careful situation.  Moving into the carving workshop of famed Harry Shourds, was gentle.  Jamie Prady was my trusted friend who brought his tools and put up ceilings and removed rotted floors, and supported me when my life did a cart wheel.  I too was there when he was told his beloved was sick… In between it’s renovation and life, I worked on my art and taught a class or two.  Now, years later Randy Yarowsky has a mill cut rough cedar like the Amish did 300 years ago, starting it’s outside restoration.  It’s a slow process because it’s expensive, and time consuming.  As the barn’s revitalization takes place, summers are filled with classes, parties, and artists all who make The Barn possible.

My sacred space

My sacred space

Often times I find a surprise in my mailbox, Dad helping me with my bills, or mom giving me pieces of her memories helping me get by.  I recently sent a simple text to my brother for ideas and it was returned was an email full of promise.  Even you “sharing” statuses on Facebook or Twitter, lending me tables or giving me your Mom’s chairs after her passing… Thank you.

I see it from the road, that beautiful red barn, with the stain glassed window, the doors open, the easels up and color filling it’s walls.  I see it… and it’s not finished, love is never finished.

No Visual Art Today

photoIt’s warm and dark before the sun. Stars are shining above, and a honeybee is confused by a string of Christmas lights.

I’ve eaten too much and wore no sunscreen. We’ve sung silly songs, danced awkward dances, and lit the Menorah.

Today is Christmas Eve or better known as my son’s birthday. This marks the day, 16 years ago that the universe gave me my greatest education and my only unconditional love in this world.

So as I wait for the sun to rise I stop to embrace the gratitude and wonder of this life. I sit here in awe as I experience life while renting this body. I do hope our souls connect when we leave this world- to be with him again.

I welcome the sun. I welcome this day. I celebrate each breath, touch, sound and moment of today.

Happy birthday to my beloved you are the light in my life.

Silence is a friend that will never betray. Confucius

Recently I purged myself of something and someone.  It was really scary because it was risky.  So much seems to be at stake when you take a stand against a mainstream thought.  Yet, as I rid myself of this person, who oddly enough I called a friend, I disposed of a theology that doesn’t match with my life.

Sitting this morning in the darkened silence, IT spoke to me,  I was given Freedom.

Morning ritual

Morning ritual

Social media is a unique lesson, we post, comment, paste, and use our masks to guide our hand.  Who are we? What do we want others to believe?  Ridding myself of this ideology and the person that came with it has me typing faster and truer.  I have learned much about me,  I was a coward.  I feel free and awake again.