​​"Song in the Dark" also holds a very precious moment for me. I was looking for a model to render for a young girl in the painting.  So I choose my granddaughter who, at the age of six, is an amazingly talented singer.  We had so much fun together; setting up lighting and having her sing out loud as I took photos.  I hope the joy of that experience touches you. My joyful time with my granddaughter is woven into the painting as much as the paint that I applied.

"Song in the Night" was recently shown at the Herberger Theater in downtown Phoenix.  It's now available for purchase. (Click on the photo for more information).

Out in the desert, it's not unusual to find a cactus that's dying yet still manages to spend it's last bit of energy on a bloom.  "Prickly Pear's Last Bloom" was created from a cactus like that.

Life is a continuous process of growth and death, often occurring at the same time in any living organism or landscape - which fascinates me.  In this natural flow beauty often passes swiftly. I love to try to capture those moments with painting dramatic visual experiences of color, contrast and depth. My style reflects my awe with the designs and mysteries of life. 

Another really important aspect of my art is for me to get out and interact with the things I love to paint - like roses, cactus skeletons, wild Arizona poppies, cactus flowers and the stunning red rocks scattered throughout my State. I want to experience those "mystery of life" moments for myself before I paint them.  I want to dig in the dirt of my garden with my hands, prune a prickly rosebush, aimlessly wander in the desert looking for old metal trash, and be visually amazed by the unusual plants and wildlife of the Sonoran Desert. 

Usually in June, the delicate yellow flowers start showing the orange/red colors.  It's worth braving the heat in the early morning to hike a desert trail to find them. Personally, I would much rather be in the desert in January!  Especially during a cool, wet one like we're having now. And besides - the snakes are still hibernating.  That's a thing!

​
​LOL - not that break in the conversation that makes you feel nervous!  I'm talking about that feeling of "I-don't-know-how-to-do-this" followed closely by "what will everyone think?"

Feeling awkward. 

​We all experience it and most of us hate it. But as I've been pursuing my art and expanding my skills, I'm starting to notice benefits and trends associated with awkward. 

So I've been learning about landscapes from a really talented artist recently. He's an incredibly laid back, "let's experiment with this" kind of person. And he's not afraid of making mistakes. Looking awkward.  It's very inspirational! 

I started to enjoy painting landscapes, even though I'm continuing to paint roses, desert flowers and cactus skeletons (I can't wait to show you my newest which is nearly done). I've added a couple of dreams that were set in landscapes. (You'll see one next month when I announce that it's showing at the Herberger). Anyways . . .

I got this great idea to paint my favorite Arizona landscapes - red rock country.  Sedona. Monument Valley. The Grand Canyon. Breathtaking scenes. Pretty exciting, right?  

What a disaster! My colors were so off. Pink? Red? Orange? How on earth do I capture the incredible colors I'm seeing?  Awkward. I felt totally awkward. I was ready to give up and not admit I had even tried because it was so awkward.

​Then I remembered that awkward is necessary for learning a new skill. I'm not letting awkward stand in my way.

​I decided to spend some time in Sedona. I used color chips to hold up against cliffs, hiked a trail to see colors up close and took lots of photos with my husband's help.  I've been mixing paints and choosing palettes (totally awkward - just being real). And I've actually been discovering some cool things and coming up with some new ideas.  It's back to being exciting. 

I hope this inspires you to take a chance and learn a new skill that you've always wanted to learn.  It's going to be awkward at first.  Maybe for a while!  But there's something exciting about learning something new. It's challenging. Maybe someone will mention that it looks awkward.  Who cares! You'll get better at it and that same person might ask you to show them how you did it.  It happens!

What's that famous saying - "seize the day?"  Sounds awkward to me. 

​Don't let that stop you!

​I love the color of green.  Maybe it's grown on me the longer I've lived in the desert.

Not that the Sonoran Desert doesn't have green!  Sometimes we get enough rain in the winter to green it up to surprise all the snow-birds (our affectionate name for winter visitors). Even then, the green desert competes with the vivid pops of desert blossoms, the bright blue sky and the sometimes purple, sometimes terra cotta colors of the mountains.

I'm celebrating green today because one of my favorite paintings, "New Leaf" is on display at FOUND:RE Hotel in downtown Phoenix. (You can see it on the First Friday Art Walks). It was so encouraging to hear the feedback from people at the Opening Reception - "it's stunning" "love the way you've enlarged a familiar thing so we can explore it" "the green seems to be dancing" "how did you get the leaves to be so translucent" . . .  It did my little artist heart good and made me happy!​

​​​Funny thing.  At this uber green workshop, I was experimenting with a new color palette - mixing and exploring colors for the Red Rocks of Arizona. Most of you know that landscapes aren't my thing. Of course, I'll always love and paint roses. And the burrowing owls on desert trash are so much fun!

​But a new desire is bubbling up in my soul since we drove through Monument Valley in April.  I've just gotta explore it! 

​Here are a couple of the exercises I played with in the workshop. I'm excited about exploring these amazing places though painting.

​Let me know in the comments if you've been to any of the Red Rock places in Arizona - I'd love to hear about your experience!

I've been pretty isolated this past year because of health issues.  With lots of rest, there has also been much introspection with the slowing down, as well healing and renewed strength.
​Now that my world is opening up again - artist receptions, live meetings, dinners out, friends over, swim parties, real coffee chats - I've been totally gobsmacked!*

Being a working artist requires a ton of solitude!

Did you all know that?  So how did I make it this far being so uninformed. I guess that's why, when my life was so busy, my average time to complete a painting was measured in years. Now I'm applying to galleries that want to see 100s of my paintings. That requires a whole lot of time. Yah - I haven't had any mysterious creatures in the middle of the night paint for me! 

I've had to embrace a new lifestyle of solitude. I'm thankful to be living my dream. Even if it involves a lot of being alone with my imagination. Putting in the hours in my studio. Causing me to miss out on the activities I used to be so busy with and the people who have been such a blessing in my life.  It's been quite the awakening.  But I'm willing to make the changes as I become aware of them.

I've heard it said, "Growing things change." I like that perspective. It's not that we intend to make life more complicated. It's just that sometimes we need to consider the changes we need to make to get where we want to go. Change is healthy and, though it's not always easy, it's a sign of life.

I'd love to hear about some of the change you're embracing in your life. You can click on the comments below.

*gobsmacked - utterly astonished; astounded (British). Ok. So I love Downton Abbey.

​Mostly, the Sonoran desert is a beautiful place of unique vistas, plants, animals and minerals. On a cool winter day (when the snakes are hibernating), it's an amazing place to discover natural treasures.  I love to paint what I find out there!

Back to the trash.  It occurred to me that I could take a lesson from the Arizona burrowing owls. They've made an amazing adaptation to man-made materials. If you know where to look for them, they can be found hiding in drainage ditches and piles of pallets all over town, where people live and work. I figured if they could pivot like that, I could also change my perspective and find a way to make art out of the junk I find in the desert.

​So I've included burrowing owls in my recent art pieces, in honor of their creative problem solving.  And . . . they're just plain adorable!  I hope you enjoy them!

My newest painting "LIFE: the ultimate construct" is a visual expression of unseen mysteries that fascinate me.

Mystic messages holding the key to create life. A plant or an animal? A flower or a human? Blue eyes, hazel, green or brown? 

These amazing messages are more commonly known as DNA.  They come to us from the past, make their own tweaks and variations in the present to ultimately script the future. That's the bottom line of how life functions. And I really nerd out on it!

Scientists have recently discovered an important system in the mysterious cloudy mixture of fluff between the well-known double helixes of DNA.  In my painting, this replication platform is portrayed with what some scientists have called a DNA hand.

The flowers represent another peculiar phenomena in DNA. There are gene sequences that are the same in some plants as in humans.  Isn't life stunning!

As I paint, my thoughts explore and imagine the beauty of life in things I can and cannot see.

It may be the last glimpse of structural beauty in a cactus skeleton, hidden most of its life by the outside tissue of a plant long since decayed.  I personally think the skeletons are way more beautiful that their live cacti counterparts.

Or brilliant desert flowers casting their seeds of the future to the wind before they quickly fade.

And of course roses, that have captured the imagination of genetic engineers for centuries, intermingling unseen codes and creating new species for a legacy of pleasure.  

Ultimately, my thoughts always return to the beauty of human life.  The unique individuality of each and every person on this planet. The vast diversity of community and culture.

​The hope and the possibilities.