As I walk, as slowly as possible, toward the end of my life, I find that I long to gather all its memories, passions and learnings in one place. I have decided that rather than use my site solely for paintings, I will expand it to include all the loves in this current adventure in being human. I am committed to the practice of living deeply. I understand that what I create is a co-creation always. I am understanding that each day is extra, a gift to be used carefully. I hope to do my gathering in this space so that I, and anyone who might be interested, can join me.


Years ago I found this Lady’s Slipper on the ridge above my cabin. I brought her with a huge ball of dirt down the hill and placed her just outside my kitchen window. Each April I wait for her, an announcemnt of another year when I am blessed with spring and hope. The Lady’s Slipper will transplant only into familiar soil. When I first came into these mountains, I felt immediately at home. My roots had never gone deep anywhere I was transplanted though there were many beautiful landscapes that I inhabited and loved. I have felt complete here on this little mountain and able to thrive and bloom in the unlikely geography of these ancient spaces. Its seasons are icons, its beauty is eucharist, its every growing inhabitant and every dying one a metaphor and a prayer.


I have begun to deeply understand Beauty as the single spiritual force that draws me through life and propels me, gives me courage, inspires me. I somehow think it should be Love or Truth..making rules as usual. But it is the Beauty in people, places and things that causes Love to arise in me and saturate me. Beauty activates Truth that then compels me to reject the shallow, the illusory and the sentimental. They are not separate forces but aspects of the One. Finally though, it is the longing for and search for Beauty that flows through my being. It is my life force. It is the gift that is given to me in this particular human incarnation. It is Beauty that invites me into the mystery of experience.





The light in the bowl of honey


is the perfume in the apple


is the breath in rising bread


is the longing in new wine


is the ache in an autumn leaf


is the bitter taste in wind


is the waiting in winter trees


is the gnarl in the hand reaching


for the deep sweetness


in death.

Crabtree Creek October

Crabtree Creek October