I always lose my phone. It is always texting me or ringing or it is slipping under a cushion. It is just the right size to slip under blankets or out of pockets or fall down in the void between the seats in the car.

The old phones were stable and stuck somewhere permanently attached on one place. They didn’t move with you. So all the talking was brought to them not visa versa. They were not like English ivy , growing into every square inch of your life. You were not your phone. Your phone was not you. Those were the old days.

At least computers stay put, Wrong they move with you too now and are on your phone.

I wonder how that face changes society? Is easier better 100 percent of the time?

Are we closer than ever because of them , or are they actually security walls that we have between ourselves and everyone else.

I am grateful that my. Mom has a land line and I have to call her. She got a cell phone but doesn’t charge it so basically its useless . So you have to call her. I call her all the time to talk about the smallest stupidest things that are so minuscule life things that I would never text to anyone, because of how small they are. But those small things are so delightful and important to us and we have the luxury of talking on the phone for a long time. She will tell me she has to go when her arm falls asleep, That s out cut off point. I wouldn’t trade a half an hour on the the phone with her for anything.

The Beautiful Bull

I had the opportunity to see a bull that was rented out to service a herd of cows. The cows are friendly and sweet and when the Bull stopped by they all were interested. He really cut a handsome figure with his black muscular body that was most defiantly male. There was something about him that enchanted me. Not only was he smart enough to turn the sprinklers on when he was hot but he also knew when he was being admired.
He pranced over to the fence so I could get a good look at him.
The way he held himself was so regal and determined.
When you drive past a farm here , you see lots of cows but its not often you notice a bull, so it was a treat to get a close up encounter. It wasn’t just the way he looked that was outstanding but it was his demeanor was the thing. He was elegantly powerful. I had to paint him with roses as they are the motive I love to use most and the juxtaposition of the masculine bull with the feminine rose was exactly how I found our encounter to be.



Having lived all my life in cities, it is very life changing to move to the high desert , That’s what they call it here”High Desert”. It is like living in a dream scape . Ive tried to see to the end of the sky but there is more beyond what my eyes can absorb. But I can feel it go further. And I will tell you something else., my body is becoming part of the land. I can feel the grass blowing and the cows munching , The trees seem like a part of my arms scooping up the sky. So what that does to my mind is expanding to say the least.

A few years ago I read a book called “Dakota” It was about a New York City author moving to South Dakota the effect it had on her. It was like that book was calling to me and I loved it so much that every word was scrumptious. Now I am living it.

I haven’t painted since March when the lockdown started . I couldn’t. Now I have a huge studio and its just waiting.

This is necessary for me right now but hopefully I wont do a Harper Lee and never write again.

Foggy Dew

My husband and I found out there is a drink that is so incredibly delicious

that every single sip is like leaving earth and going into the celestial land

It just a London Fog but we use vanilla silk creamer instead of milk

And then it is a Foggy Dew

Grandchildren are like that

You can’t believe you get them

So spending anytime with them is like the biggest treat you ever received

Each delicious drop of their face is so beautiful that you can never get enough of

just looking at them.

Every word they say is beyond darling and precious

Because you know you only get one cup of them before you have to give them back.

Another Artist statement

I was rereading my artist statement after one day. Is it still true. Yes. I think I don’t know the outcome of my work but it is also another thing.

Art therapy is happens without you even knowing it. Everything in your experience comes out and will manifest one way or another. This gives everyone their own style .

I paint what I need to paint to deal with my thoughts. The result is different for every viewer according to their experience of course too. So maybe a certain look will either attract you or totally put you off depending on your immediate experience. So it is art therapy for both artist and viewer. It is healing for both.

I like to think my work can heal you. What else is art for if not that, I look at old paintings and think of what was happening to me then and how things turned out. Do they weather the storm with you too and do you find new things as your life changes.

Art is sort of a living thing that grows with you.

error: Please do not copy.