A Weather Bank I wish we had a weather bank in which I could deposit the all the lovely hours May has generated. When Maryland’s summer arrives, I could withdraw enough cool dry air to keep my charm from depleting. On our evening walks I smell honeysuckle and...
Creative Output So Far Assessing this spring’s output compared to my [creative] output this time three years ago, I am lagging. Maybe because this spring I have a wee bit more of a life — Two and half years of uncertain times seem to be in the rear view...
Color my Wits . . . Craz’d If I were painting, my palette would be messy. Grief is a hard subject. But, I am writing. Finding words is harder when one’s wits are knotted by the times, and tears. Other people’s words describe the swirl of emotions that are washing...
A Guide and Goad Other people’s words guided me this week — and goaded me to keep looking for my own. Maybe what I read will refresh you, as March departs like a soggy lion. Well-trained Christians make it a habit each night to look over the past day and see where...
Painting Painting pink tulips in February has been a good use of time. Listening to a biography of Charles Dickens while I paint has also been a good use of time, especially for one who read more Cliffs Notes than Dickens’ originals. Dickens was like the nineteenth...
Here’s a seed — I hope you will enjoy what blossoms on these pages — a taste of some paintings I did, beginning in Dallas and through the here and now. When I first began painting ay Pigment School of the Arts. I felt . . . OH so rusty, incompetent, dull, OLD and...
Over forty-five years ago, I joined a water class that a new friend, Joanne Scott, offered at her studio on Mill Creek, outside of Annapolis, Maryland. For several years, until she moved her classes to Maryland Hall, Joanne welcomed a small group of newbies and...
Yes, I have added another yellow cat to my collection. Maybe it’s the red, and yellow, and orange colors? Or, is it the idea of a naughty little creature just doing what comes naturally? Perhaps what intrigues me are the tiny goldfish who sense . . . SEE . . ....
A remembrance, a memoir and a collection of eulogies have kept me company on the porch while I paint, reminding me to stay teachable. A Remembrance In a remembrance, David Brooks wrote on Frederick Buechner’s life: Buechner’s books tell stories, let you experience...
First: I am glad I have updates from the porch! I am grateful for so much — even change -- which is as disconcerting as ever. Second, I [still] have NO idea where time is going. (Time Flies) I bet you don’t either if you are a seasoned citizen! (LOL) The clock...
Finally, I finished The Great Influenza: The Story of the Deadliest Pandemic in History, learning dimensions of WWI history that Upstairs Downstairs and Downton Abbey left out. Given, what J.M. Barrie reported about what led up to the Great Influenza, and all that...
The pandemic goaded me to paint an owl that looked like I felt! Will Rogers shows me 2020-2022 isn't the only hard spell Americans have had. It was one of the first little paintings I did back when I thought the pandemic would last maybe a couple of weeks. Somehow,...
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