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...Ode to a Sweatshirt
As I reached happily for my well worn hooded sweatshirt again this morning, I wondered suddenly why I feel such affection for it, and for all those I’ve ever had, why I am always on the lookout for new ones to replace those that wear out, and why I am so excited when...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...Happy Birthday
My birthday was ten days ago. Miraculously, the weather was lovely that day—sunny, highs in the 70s, low humidity. Highly unusual for that date. My birthday almost always falls on one of those insufferably hot, humid and airless midsummer days familiar to Minnesotans....Share This Post
Welcome to Whisperings
“There is a place where words are born of silence,
A place where the whispers of the heart arise.”
— Rumi
I will ponder here what whispers to me in the silence. I’d love for you to whisper back; maybe we will all get clearer—or maybe, like in the old kids’ game of “telephone” we will end up somewhere else entirely (which would be fun too)
