Tuesday, July 23, 2013


Lately I've been looking back at some of my earliest images. This is one of my favorites, from almost eight years ago when we moved to central Mexico for six months.

That move was such a departure from life as we had known it. I found myself with time to wander and explore, and discovered a botanical garden about a half-mile from the home we were renting. I borrowed Raymond's camera (never to be his again, as it turned out) and I was off. I hadn't been making photographs since college, and the joy of it came back to me at once.

Making time to explore has been a part of my life since then. Each time we've moved to a new area, I've delighted in discovery. Even now, being in Seattle for five years, I still make myself stop and go look. Sometimes it just shows up, like when walking my dog this bright and sunny morning, we turned a corner and right into a wispy, drifting fog bank. Magical.

If you're not already, I invite you to make time to stop and explore every day. Just look. Notice the details. Be here now. Enjoy.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013


Looking back over my last few posts, I see a theme was growing and gaining momentum... It's time for a change. I'm still not quite sure what that change is, but I trust I will discover it in good time. It may even be a re-ignighting of the passion for nature closeups that I've been making for so long. But I suspect it'll be a new direction in my art.

But just a few days ago I was inspired by a rose my husband gave me on the 24th anniversary of our relationship. Just this one rose of the dozen had this amazing spiral pattern at its heart... So I made a photograph of it. A nature closeup. Guess I'm not quite done with those yet.

And now we're gearing up for long summer holiday rest. No email, no Facebook, and very few solid plans over the next couple weeks. I have an intention - but not a goal - that a new focus will become illuminated. Or a new inspiration and clarity will take hold. I often get my best ideas when I'm most relaxed. So here's to that, and I hope you also enjoy your 4th of July holiday.

Ta ta for now!

Monday, June 24, 2013


I like this image I recently created because of its dynamic tension between light and dark. As summer tries to get a toehold here in Seattle and spring isn't quite ready to obey the calendar and give up its gloom and rain, so goes my art. I'm experiencing a tension between what I've done and what I want to do next.

It's a place of uncertainty, especially since I'm not clear yet what is next. But being able to identify it as uncertainty makes it easier to simply allow it to be, rather than resist it, which had been my course. There's a letting go of what didn't work, and even some letting go of what did. Logically I know one has to let go in order to even begin create what's next. But knowing something isn't the same as having access to it.

So here's to uncertainty, and all it brings! Happy summer, Everyone.

Friday, June 7, 2013


I made this image this week after watching a video about creating fantastic (surreal) art through collage. Although not inspired after watching to create collage, I was inspired to play with elements of form and create my own patterns and design.

When I first start making and sharing photographs after an almost 20 year absence, for some reason I had a rule that I had to capture my subjects as they were. Nothing came into the studio, it all had to be shot where it was, as it was. No idea why I had that rule. I was aware of it, but unaware of its origins.

When I finally started breaking it, I began to expand as an artist. I think part of the process of growing as an artist is to continue to see one's self-imposed limitations and choose to go beyond them. Wait -- that's the process of growing as a human. Damn, but I'm wise for a Friday. So here's to going beyond the rules, whatever they may be.

Thursday, May 30, 2013


Today, I drew. Haven't done that since grade school. But I joined an online basic art class to improve my artsitic vision, and they encouraged us to try out some of the techniques demonstrated. So why not? Charcoal most appealed to me, especially when water was added, so that's what I did. For inspiration I used a photo I'd made earlier.

I'm not ready to quit my day job. I'm clear I have a LOT to learn. But I'm loving the journey.

Monday, May 20, 2013


I've been fortunate to spend two of the last four weekends on a beach in Sonora, Mexico. It's a beach that's a five hour drive from Phoenix, and I spent a lot of time there during my years in Arizona.

Even as a little desert dweller, I always appreciated the light patterns made by sunlight and water. I'd spend hours by the swimming pool, watching the light ribbons undulate in the water, and on the patio wall.

Returning to this beach with my artist's eye, I saw it newly. Early morning walks at low tide showed a side of this sea I didn't connect to in the past.

Water is deeply transformative. It can be devastating as a tsunami, or gentle as a soft rain that brings a fresh sparkle. Spiritually, the symbolism of water is profound. My own rebirth as an artist was reflected in leaving the desert and moving near the sea. I'm so grateful I got to bring this journey full circle.

Tuesday, May 7, 2013


Submitting. Submission. Not a very empowered word. Yet it's the word artists use when referring to offering our works to be included in exhibits. I submit my art to your judgement.

It is the artist's version of cold calling. Of shaking hands with people at the Chamber of Commerce mixer. Most of us hate, or at least, resist it. Yet it's usually the first step to getting our work shown.

This week I've pushed through my own resistance and have submitted six original pieces for a garden- themed show. I've had two more accepted for a gallery involved in the June Art Walk in Pioneer Square. And I'm working on submissions for a facility in Snohomish, WA; pieces that will likely end up being printed and colored on five foot square canvases. So the outcome is fun, even if the process is not.

I submit to the process. Resistance is futile. Perhaps I will even come to enjoy it. Perhaps.