When I was a child, I always thought of hills & mountains as barriers that hindered my family’s annual drive from the valley to the coast: They were obstacles to be gotten over – or more accurately, around – before we could begin our seaside...
The other evening at dinner, I remarked to Tom, “Well, today I really felt like an artist.” He gave me his “I-don’t-know-where-this-is-going-but-I’m-willing-to-follow-you-there” look & waited for me to continue. Here’s what I...
Tom & I are currently staying in the area where I grew up & on our first night here, a freight train went through town. We had arrived late; it was almost midnight before I was ready to tumble into bed. For me, travel days are always...
When I was in the 4th grade, on random – but mercifully infrequent – Friday afternoons, we would “have art.” Paper was distributed, crayons were exhumed from the bottom of desks, & an LP was put on the turntable. The mandate: Draw whatever the music, be it...
Every now & then, as I’m leaving the gallery where I teach on Saturdays, I take a short detour downstairs to spend a few minutes in front of what I refer to as “my wall.” This is the spot where, at any given time over the past 10-plus years, a half-dozen or...
Here’s something I’ve been puzzling over for the last 20-odd years: Why is it so very difficult for me to give myself permission to go into the studio to work on a project if it happens that the house hasn’t been cleaned in over a week or some other,...
