Fruit and Death

Autumn Haiku  Sprawled on sunny ground Crunchy leaves and dusty grass Scent of fruit and death  AEP 10/9/20 Fruit and death. The scent of autumn, and what comes to mind as I clear out the house we’ve lived in for nearly 30 years. Finding things long forgotten,...

Regarding Baskets

“I was told there would be a handbasket.” This meme, popping up everywhere it seems, made me chuckle when I first read it weeks ago. Yet lately it hasn’t seemed so funny. Looking at photos and videos from California, Oregon and Washington have more literally brought...

An Art Path In a Pandemic

Oh my, here we are.   This painting is several years old, but eerily it makes me think of the virus, its stealthy infiltration of our systems and our cities.     The last week has been a hard one for me because I have been awash in fear and grief. Not...

Painting With My Dead Friend

Holly, a dear friend of mine, died last summer. She was a writer and a creative soul in many ways, including artmaking of all kinds. She was an imaginative free spirit who appreciated the unconventional. So her art was usually quirky. Self-taught, she didn’t often...

Deep Rest

Still resting in the pause of the sun, the eclipse of the new moon, listening to the stars sing in the dark… What is singing to you now? Where is stillness waiting for you? I’d love to hear.   (click on the picture for a sharper view)...

Images of Insecurity

Until a few days ago I was at a retreat center in upstate New York. Twenty women and the facilitator, Jalaja Bonheim, came together for a week, experiencing the powerful geometry of the circle, allowing sacred space and silence to fortify us and help us move from...