
A dream is just a dream, a goal is a dream with a deadline (paraphrased from Harvey McKay) or like to say to myself in my art studio "just show up"! I am a mixed-media full-time artist that loves painting, collage and encaustic. Recycling/repurposing as much as possible including tea bags, onion skins (anything is fair game) working intuitively preferring sticks, fingers, feathers as tools over a paint brush. I am grateful for the opportunity to create in my studio daily.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Friday, November 02, 2007

A Page from My Book:
Journal Quilts 2007 - Journal Quilt Project
Impossible Things
The machine-stitched sketch is from a photograph of me reading to my granddaughter, Madison. I left out the tubes taped to her face in my version. Weighing one pound, 13 ounces, Madison was born July 19th, 2006, months ahead of her October 20th due date. Due to collapsed lungs and other medical issues, she was not expected to survive. With her delicate skin, the NICU staff could barely touch or move her. They asked us to bring in teeny beanie babies to help prop her or hold tubing in place. The appliqué animals are based on the beanie babies in her incubator in the NICU unit, where she spent nearly 3 months.
At 16 pounds, Madison recently celebrated her 1st birthday, a happy and healthy toddler. I completed this "page" for the journal project on Grandparent’s day.
If you look closely to the flowers on the left-hand side you can see where I wrote a favorite Lewis Carroll quote, that to me sums up my granddaughter as well as my experience with the journal project: “sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast”.
Thursday, October 18, 2007

Artist Reception: Sunday, October 28, 1 to 3pm
Monday, October 15, 2007
Friday, October 12, 2007

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Thursday, September 27, 2007

HOW DO YOU LIKE MY MOBILE STUDIO? I think it is evident by this photo of my painting project spread out on top of my car in the garage to dry, that I am running out of room in my studio. Or by the new drafting table still in the box in my bathroom, waiting to be put together. Another obvious sign is not being able to find anything in my studio. Or constantly tripping over things in my studio. Or constantly knocking things over (however, sometimes I find things I was looking for days before by this method.)
Of course, we all make due. At some point in time I have done my art work in every room in the house, including back and front yard. I wonder what my neighbors think when I am doing bleach discharge in the garage and I dash out into the front yard grabbing the hose, dressed in my tie dye shirt wearing goggles and ventilator mask?