All parts of my life are about the inner journey.
My work follows that thread.

The essence of place is reflected back to me in my work; the greenness of moss and tree, craggy greyness of rock, scratchy silhouette of bare branch, ethereal wisp of fog.

The creative adventure is always reckless.

– Jospeh Campbell

I sense this recklessness when I walk into my studio (and not just because of the mess!) I’m learning to feel at home in the wilderness of the unknown. When I work I’m hunter-like, tracking, following faint markings. Some days I’m the empty-handed hunter, other days I make delicious discoveries.

My work becomes a meditation with paint, scrapers, ash from the fire, whatever is called for.

There’s no plan, no destination. My work has taught me that these need to be abandoned. Poet Mary Oliver says, “there is little the creatively inclined person can do but to prepare himself, body and spirit for the labor to come – for his adventures are all unknown.”

 

Maybe this is who I am

When I was fifteen, I plucked The Tibetan Book of the Dead from the metal stacks of my suburban library, on the advice of a hippie in the park. It lit a silent spark for me that grew into a Buddhist practice.

The spark burns, and I gather from all sources of spiritual wisdom. Quantum thought, the work of Eckhart Tolle, David Hawkins, Abraham Hicks.

I find potent magic in homeopathy, qi gong, and strong coffee. I love all beauty, cats, the call of an owl  – in no particular order. I am a design junkie, set off to accidentally redecorate entire rooms after changing one small piece.

I often tell people I live in a cave on a small island. I’ve been warned not to say so by someone who likely thought I was bringing a curse upon myself, but somehow I can’t kick the habit. The truth is not far off. I do live on a small island, and I am endlessly occupied with the details of life. This is some version of who I am.

And with a nod to the mundane

My work is in homes from Norway and Scotland to the US, Canada and Singapore. It has appeared in Tricycle Magazine, Buddhadharma Magazine and on the cover of the book “Lotus Petals In The Snow.” Two small works are in the Postal Art Collection of The National Museum of Canada.