Haven

"Haven"

24 x 30 inches

Oil on canvas

2023

I believe in faeries. Gnomes. Wood spirits. I truly do. Sitting on a huge smooth stone by the waterfall in the lush green valley behind my home in Italy, I believe in all of them. I feel them there. How can you deny it? Are you not transported? Moved beyond human things? Cradled in the green? Do you not become suddenly light as a feather? With your leaves rustling in the tendrils of wind coming off of the rushing water?

What if we could all stop? What if we could all feel it, the feeling of belonging?

This is Haven, my own temple by the river. My own little altar. With the light always there, in the center.

As of the date of this writing, "Haven" is available in my Colorado Studio.

Spanish skies

"Spanish skies"

48 x 36 inches

Oil on canvas

2023

Inspired by the majestic skies over a small Spanish island in the Atlantic Ocean, a place of space and open skies. I traveled there feeling closed in and not just a little trapped. Sometimes beauty can only be found in a place where not another living soul stands with you to gaze upon it. Where the cliffs are jewel-like smoky brown, tumbling down to the red golden beach and water that crashes. Where I become small, so very small, and I scream into the wind and lie back on the sand, no one to behold me except the birds.

I am free.

I am free.

I am free.

A sweeping, moving, dramatic symphony that will never be the same painting twice. An expressionist moment. A song that blows like a feather in the wind.

The sky is a living thing!

As of the time of this writing, "Spanish skies" is available in my Colorado Studio.

The gift of light in winter

"The gift of light in winter"

80 x 80 cm

Oil on canvas

2025

I have lived through winters. Cold winters. Winters so demanding and long. Winters that asked everything of me. Winters that required every piece of my humanness, that asked me to let go and believe that spring would come, in the face of all that seemed to prove just the opposite.

Winter, true winter, is a beautiful thing. It comes upon us all, usually in the night as we sleep, and we awake to a new world, covered in the veil of God's own shadow. May we all hunker down then. Light a fire. Hold a warm steaming cup. Sit by a hearth. Maybe, if we are lucky, not alone.

And then it happens. The light. The light comes calling, just as I have stopped waiting for it. Longing for it. Accepted this steel gray light and shadow. The light comes and unfurls in glory, igniting every snowflake, the ice on the lake and the frozen trees.

The light comes. Always. The gift of light in winter.

"The gift of light in winter" is available in my Colorado Studio, as of the time of this writing.