As most of you know, I didn’t paint for 26 years after college, where I was a painting and drawing major and a printmaking minor. What you may not know is that coming back to painting took a tremendous commitment and no small amount of effort.
Blog
Stripped Down and Broken Open: Giving Birth to Art
… this is where I caught my first true glimpse of me. THIS is where the abstracts were born. But I wouldn’t fully understand it until this very moment as I write it out to you.
Of Transitions and the Place Between
A birthing that necessitated pain, as all birth does, was taking place and I was in it. I was coming into ME. And my paintings reflected all of it–the growth, the pain and the confusion.
An Uncomfortable But Compelling Push-Pull
… it was with some incredible hubris, if not utter disrespect, that I’d made these plans. I knew nothing about Truchas–its rich and complicated history, its heritage, its people, its simple AGE (the village was founded in 1754).
The Art of Becoming
Apparent or not, these pieces were all born of the land. They illustrate a period of intense soul searching and growth that could only take place in the embrace of this place I had come to trust.
New Mexico Isn’t for Sissies
… when a local artist accused me of painting wallpaper, I had my first glimpse of raising the bar. Welcome to New Mexico kid! The home of the big boys and truly exceptional art.
A World of Blue
I was living in a pale blue world. Snow covered the ground and the shadows cast on its surface offered up just about every shade imaginable—the sunlit sky of day with its blue and white clouds… pale blue everywhere.