My work is a reflection of something I have been looking for all of my life. Home. The Spanish word "Querencia" describes it most fully. It means a place where one feels safe, a place from which one's strength of character is drawn, a place where one feels at home. Home. What an emotionally loaded word.

Years ago, in a class with Mary Winterfield, she gave us an exercise that had nothing to do with paint and at the same time, everything to do with paint.

There is a bucket in my studio right now that tells you everything about how a painting actually gets made. It is not the painting. It is the water. Brushes soaking, rags gone the color of the week's palette, the sludge at the bottom that used to be titanium white and Payne's gray and whatever red I couldn't stop reaching for. It is not beautiful. It is not something I would ever photograph for its own sake. But it is real, and real is most of what happens in a studio between the moments anyone else ever sees.

This is how paintings begin; sensitivity to the moment when something grabs your attention, grabs your feelings, grabs your sense of "wow." It can be a positive wow, or a not so positive wow, but it just found its way into your body as a memory.

A psychological phenomenon called pareidolia. The brain's deep, hardwired inclination to conjure meaningful shapes out of nebulous contours. Two dots and a line, and most human brains make the same connection.

Taking care of your original art is crucial to being able to enjoy it and be inspired by it for the long term.  Original art of all genres capture moments in time and the emotions and memories of those moments making them valuable and irreplaceable.

Have you ever felt the frustration of chasing artistic inspiration while juggling the responsibilities of everyday life? You're not alone. Many artists struggle to separate their artistic selves from their "normal" selves. But what if they weren't separate at all? What if peace and contentment could be fostered through a seamless integration of art and life?

Inspiration – it's the lifeblood of any creative. We crave it, chase it, and sometimes feel frustrated when it seems to vanish into thin air. But where does this elusive spark come from, and how can we cultivate it on demand?

Remember the last time you felt completely overwhelmed? For me, it was during the challenges of COVID and being unable to see friends or family or have any kind of normal. I felt lost, frustrated, and on the verge of exploding. Then, a friend introduced me to the unexpected practice of a "rage walk" in nature.

As a painter of the invisible through abstraction, I am often affected emotionally by nature and the mystical connections that tie all beings together. I try to capture the essence of this interdependence between us, animals, and the environment whether man-made or natural

How your Surroundings Influence Motivation :

With a background in design, I have always been sensitive to my environment…not only the physical surroundings but also the people within it. Environment can have significant impact on your motivation levels and productivity and even the peace and comfort you feel while working. In this blog post, we will explore the ways in which your environment can either fuel or hinder motivation, and provide actionable tips on creating an inspiring and motivation boosting space. Everyone has different thresholds for disturbance. So take what makes sense for you and leave the rest

When inspiration doesn't come and resistance rears its ugly head, creating art can feel impossible. But as artist Anna Deavere Smith once wrote, “Inspiration is for amateurs. The rest of us just show up and get to work.” 

Life Is An Art Form : Excavating Emotions

Emotions are an integral part of our human experience. So, let us embrace them and our memories, be they positive or negative, for they hold the keys to unlocking the depths of our inner life and through that connect with others on a profound level. Abstract painting is like improvisational jazz. Each has its own language and is created and woven from our lives in ways we don’t understand.

The human experience is a remarkable canvas that showcases the intricacies of emotion, identity, and individuality, not only for human beings, but for all nature. The world itself and its beauty lies not only in its physicality but also in the wealth of the non physical experience it can convey. From sparkling eyes that shimmer with joy to the gentle curve of a smile that radiates warmth, to the touch of a hand, the beauty of a sunset or the amazing life of a simple single tree, there is a wealth of sensation, emotions and stories waiting to be explored and experienced.

Going down a rabbit hole these days, in my life and in my work. I have gotten lost a bit in figuring out whether or not I want to live in my rabbit hole and take the blue pill, or come back out on top and go back to normal preprogrammed life. A friend of mine, who is always, always challenging me, reminded me of this concept the other day while we were watching a video he had chosen and it mentioned the idea of wabi sabi.

Since books are such a big part of my life, I thought I would share one that I am slogging through right now. I say slogging because it’s not an easy read. It isn’t one of those books you grab on a dreary day or an afternoon at the beach and read from cover to cover falling in love with characters and stories.

My melancholy side is seduced by the darker side of things…beauty in decay or in marked up concrete or the shadows of things rather than the sublime photo of something expected to be conventionally beautiful. There have been times in my life when I’ve been forced to look down, for safety’s sake or protection from even worse hurt or loss, rather than upwards toward heaven for illumination or benediction. A captivating turn about is that I’ve been finding lovely patterns and markings and colors in unexpected places and forms.