Gallery



Looking for a Special Gift? This was sketched as a 10th anniversary gift to Mike. Lighthouses became our special symbol after we spent our honeymoon in Cape Cod.



The Imagined Land: A dream landscape to wander through...
To the right, a detail of the Imagined Land.







A friend had given me a few photos she felt would work well as paintings. While I've yet to really finish this, I do think it demonstrates the potential of creating a personalized scene to have as your own.



The photo above & a painting detail to the right.



The giraffe below was drawn after my daughter's roommate expressed her infatuation with the animals. Is there something special you'd like to see created to express that interest?



These 3 photos show a couple of different ways
to celebrate friends and teammates.



The Bowling Buddies of Booda's Bunch



An original Uncommon Chick



Still Under Construction: St. Lawrence Seaway

Tis the season for pumpkins, pumpkins and more pumpkins!



This was inspired by our #1 Pumpkin. Hope she knows who she is! Do you have a unique nickname for a loved one you'd like illustrated?



The original photo that Mike took at Watkins Glen, NY



Capturing Nature's Magic



Detail of Nature's Gift















Froggy, the Action Hero! Does your child have a favorite stuffed animal you'd like to see come to life?

The brilliant colors of this magazine cover translated so
well to a vibrant illustration in markers. A favorite pic could
take on this unique form, too!



Another Imagined Land in Color: Over the Rainbow







Revisiting the Reunion



<>

Between summer and fall



There's still a buzzing in my brain. I feel suspended between two existences these last few days: the fun simplicity of my youth and the reality of my life as it has become. The reunion I attended this past weekend has left me in this wonderfully, weird place. Both levels are intertwined to create this beautiful paradoxical phenomenon.

It started with a huge step back: back to the places, face and voices of another lifetime. Getting off the train my father used every working day and hearing my name excitedly called by a beloved, forever friend, with that accent so dear to my heart. And still knowing the countenance; a few fine lines showing her journeys, but just as lovely as I remember.



Friendship-Today & Yesterday



Then, the rest of the gang emerged, warm, loving, happy. Young. Yes, grayer in the hair, crow's feet circling the eyes, but the gang it was. The peoply who represented every struggle, every tear, every laugh, every triumph of my adolescence were here in front of me. A brightness grabbed me and chased away any daily drudgeries.

It continued as I was welcomed to become part of a friend's home. The simplicity of sharing it was that we were young and carefree and could devote our energies almost exclusively to each other and the events of the weekend. Responsibilities were few, like being teenagers again. The multitude of plans was not routine either, yet, there was an easiness about the gathering, the conversation, the company. Despite having lived a generation apart, our love for each other had stopped in time 30 years ago. It was an indescribable feeling to be able to wrap myself in that love again.

At the formal reunion, it was fun and challenging to pull faces off the memory board and try to match them to the names and faces now before me. There were some that took no effort. Others are still bothering me, because I know I missed a vital connection to the past and fear that I've hurt feelings in forgetting. There were a few old flames there. A couple were just nice to see as friends, others that still made a few butterflies reanimate in my stomach. Unfortunately, the peripheral friends I'd hoped to see did not make it. That was the only truly sad part of the event.

The most tremendous part of the whole experience was the connection that occurred with people with whom I'd had no relationship in high school. There was a pleasant sense of finding friendship. Feeling able to approach and being approached by so many people as if we'd always been friends was like being brought to your own surprise party. I'd never had a clue about the whole thing.

Which brings me back to the intertwining of different aspects of my life: I was painfully shy with those with whom I didn't have to function, especially, in high school. The shyness made me needy which also hurt a lot of the relationships I did have. The twists and turns of my life have made me able to step out and create relationships with almost anyone I choose. While the day-to-day of dealing with people can drag me down at times-sometimes so much that I really dislike people and the daily grind- it gave me the ability to jump into this microcosm of my past life and create a new link to both the past and the present.

I enjoyed having the confidence to accept these offerings of friendship from those from whom I had never wanted friendship. Feeling the butterflies made me realize that my standards were formed by these (now) men, the standards which guided me to my one true love when he came along 14 years ago.

And my friends, my beautiful friends, have reminded me that I can still be young, I can still enjoy life and people. Without the shyness of my teen years hindering me, it is even easier to enjoy all of these things. Even if it's just for a visit, I can still go home.

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Just a sample showing the process of developing a painting from a photograph. It's a photo Mike took while we were staying on the St. Lawrence Seaway several years ago. The glow of the sky offset by the deep shadows and silhouettes of the trees, make the color and texture of the lake pop. I'm struggling with some of the flow, but I'll be tackling it again this weekend. Will be keeping you posted as I move along on the painting.

Reunion

This weekend, I'm making a pilgrimage to my homeland. It's time for the 30th (What?!?) high school class reunion. The last time I came close to going to one of these events, was 20 years ago. We never quite made it, opting to gather for brunch. It beat attending an event where we'd meet with people we didn't particularly care for 10 years earlier. And, that decision amongst friends, was a good one. It was a true and rare pleasure.

I've thought about trekking back to the Island for other reunions that have been arranged (oddly enough, by the same 2 women each time-have to wonder about that type of dedication to the "good old days"). But any motivation was questionable. The only reason I really wanted to go to any of those events was to see whatever happened to.... Did so-and-so lose his hair (which I have from a reliable source, he didn't) or did so-and-so pack on a ton of weight (after she wumped out a bunch of kids with the star quarterback)? I wanted to indulge every pettiness I could muster toward all those cruel and selfish teenagers who had emphasized my awkwardness. Fortunately, the bile that had found it's way into my heart wasn't enough of a reason to make the trip appealing.

This time is different. I'm very excited, in some very positive ways, to go home, to reunite with my classmates.

In every stage of life, everyone has a core group of friends. Some of the peripherals will change over time, but the main strands stand solidly against the years. The high school stage, if you will, shifted with the time passages. The last couple of years have seen a bit of a renewed cohesion. Re-establishing these relationships has been cathartic in certain ways. Building on the old friendship and commonalities, past dreams and and ambitions have be revisited and refined. It's a chance to set those dreams free to fly again, to seek out those dreams of youth. And, it will be so much fun to celebrate the anticipation of the next part of the journey with your new-old friends!

The other reason I'm thrilled to be able to do this, reflects how my life, as well has my perspective, has changed. It shows how my life is happy and I'm more comfortable with myself.

I hope that some of the people with whom I have had peripheral friendships are there, too. I want to know that they've had good lives, good health. I pray that I find that they are also happy. The hurtful people will be invisible to me. They had their glory 30 years ago. My goal will be to find the joy life's given the rest of us these last 30 years.

Hope you have a wonderful weekend! I know I'm going to have one!

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Niagara Falls-Winter




New Life-Spring







Storm Front-Summer



Rush to the End of the Year- Autumn



Next week, I'll set up a contact page so we can start a conversation about what special person, place or event I can recreate for you.

For this week, I'll leave you with some of the visions my husband, Mike, has been able to capture on "film". None of his photography is touched up. You see it as he saw it. I hope you enjoy his work as much as I do!

                                            

Does This Match My Soul?

I've always been the queen of hand-me-downs. When I was young, it was hard for my mother to keep up with the rate my legs were reaching for the sky. There really wasn't enough capital to provide cover for my ankles for an entire school year. There was also the age-old issue of what a daughter thinks she should wear and what a mother knows her daughter should wear. Rarely did Mom and I agree on that point.

I came to rely on the kindness and quick-acting boredom of my friends. They woud pass a piece or two along to me as the whim took them. Once I learned how to make clothing, I became golden. The story was that if I didn't like an outfit, I would change it- literally. Change a neckline here, turn those now-too-short jeans into a skirt there, etc. The look was somewhat ragged, but it helped define my eclectic tastes and personality.

It also set the pattern for my style to be a season, or, even sometimes, a year, behind. And, I'm good with that. I've always felt that by not rushing into a trend of the fashion world, I was able to discern whether it would be something I could be comfortable with in my mind. Or, adjust it so that I could make it my own.

Oh, yes, and the deals! Impervious to potential personal health violations, I used to love to shop the Goodwill stores which are heavenly deposits of yesterday's fashion gold. With a bit of digging, I could come away with bags of items for pennies on the dollar, and support a wonderful organization. I could never fathom why people would spend hours rifling through the racks of T.J. Maxx or Marshalls to find more expensive clothes that had been tried on by more people than the stuff  at Goodwill could be, ever. Of course, there was also the joy of the seasonal clearances at the mainstream stores: Henleys for $2 each, long, flowing skirts for $5. Shear delight!

Unfortunately, as I've gotten older, I tend to be more cautious about buying clothes that have been handled be a lot of people. I'll bring clothes home to try just before I can jump into a shower. This queasiness has manifested itself in difficulty opening doors in public restrooms, refusal to buy any undergarments that are not factory-sealed, or raising the level as to where I purchase my clothes. Mind you, this cootie fever I have doesn't translate to my own home or vehicle. Those cooties are okay- they're family.

It has taken a great deal of spontaneity out of my style. Kind  of like all the other daily details of life that stop me from stepping out from the mundane. And I miss it.

But the other day, I couldn't hold out any more. I went into a dollar-style store to grab a puzzle book that I can locate only there. All last year, I'd been eyeballing the colorful scarves that were popular last fall and winter seasons. The folds of material added a certain grace to the tops they were paired with, and washed away a good deal of the winter drabness of those same tops. There they were: on clearance. At a dollar store. I had to do it. I did do it. And, I'm so glad that I did it.



Dancing the Dance



The brightness of the colors- the teals interwoven with the deep pinks and speckled with tiny sequins- combined with the lightness of the wispy material draped around my neck, lifted me. I returned to a younger, "fun-ner" time. I know the face in the mirror still looks like that of the middle-aged woman that I am. But my heart, my core said, no, no, you aren't. Not right now you aren't. And I believed.





With the constant drizzle of the last few days, the scarf has served some practical protection, but whenever I lace it over itself, I still get the floating sensation I felt the first time. With luck, I never lose it, never get bored with it. There are few tangible things that can bring you a feeling of youth, of hope. I intend on enjoying my magical scarf as long as I can.





The First Tree on "Paint"