As a child, before a predicted winter storm I would go to bed with visions of playing in deep blankets of snow and the excitement of staying home from school the next day. The so-called “snow day” was a longed-after respite from the drudgery of the school year. At least once per year the dream

The first light of the morning glows dimly over the horizon. The light from my reading lamp makes up the difference and illuminates the blank pages of the lined notebook open on my lap. The only noise in my snug studio is the slow tock-tock-tock of a clock on the desk. I sip my coffee and close my

The Artist’s Way I recently saw mention of a book my mother gave me years ago when I was living at home, “The Artist’s Way,” by Julia Cameron. I never got around to reading it, too busy with school and my young life, I suppose. Perhaps feeling a bit nostalgic, or guilty for

Recording our Love I sit in the white wicker rocking chair near the window with my feet up on a foot stool. I’ve just finished nursing my newborn son. I rub his back, feeling the warmth of his tiny body relaxing into slumber. I am tired too and I relax further into the chair and close my

Student work from nearly 30 years ago. We are often told to stay in the moment, don’t dwell in the past. This is generally good advice in life. However, for an artist, looking back can be a balm for blue periods of self doubt. Listening to other artists, and knowing myself, I see

Mike, me, and Angie at the end of our visit, with the painting of Bella. Remembering Bella A short while ago I learned that Bella, a sunny, often beribboned Shih Tzu, and loving companion of dear friends, was ill. Over the course of the following days, I saw Facebook posts such as one that showed a