• Through the Eyes of an Artist

    I am convinced that artists see, smell, and feel things differently than non-artists. It’s not that others cannot see, feel, or hear the same, but their sensory muscles are not in shape. For instance, when I take a walk along the trail with a non-artist, they will talk about how beautiful things are in a very generic sense. They may make a comment along the way when a bird flies in front of them or will notice when it begins to rain while talking about their appointments and schedules. When I take a walk, I notice the feeling of the air. I see the shadows on the path and the mist on the…

  • A Time for Celebration

    Summer has just officially begun and so far I have been to three weddings — all of which were beautiful and very different marriage celebrations. This past weekend’s wedding was held in a little campground chapel, with the reception held at the groom’s family farm. It was so homey and relaxing that I just wanted to remove my wedge heels and run through the long grass. Beautiful children all dressed in their Sunday best, farm pets, and special moments with my friends became subjects for my photos and possible themes for future paintings. When I first arrived at the farm, the refreshments-stand was being set up, so I walked around the farm and patted the heads of curious horses and tickled…

  • The Goslings

    This week was an amazing time of biking and walking on the Tomifobia Nature Trail. Red wing blackbirds and yellow warblers flew and sang in tune with the hidden frogs, while the silent turtles bathed in the sun. They almost seemed to enjoy being flattered by my admiration of them, yet at any moment they’d plop themselves into the pond as if to say ‘good bye!’ The sunshine was warm and the smell of new life was in the air. I heard so many new sounds I have not yet identified. I feel like such a beginner, but maybe you can enjoy watching me grow in my wisdom of the wild as I…

  • Rainbows on the Lake

    Of all the weeks we could have chosen, this was the week we decided to go camping. It was the wettest, rainiest week of the summer. Every time we went to the lake it would downpour. Each time I’d sit out by the pool, I’d have to return to my tent because of the rain. It was dark and dreary, but I was determined I was not going home before the week was done. One day after lunch, we took a ride around the countryside and visited a nearby town and watched a movie. Upon returning to the driveway of our campsite, we came to a hill and I screamed to my husband…