Life Got GOOD!

I don't know that I will write much in here, but I felt like simply saying that I got a studio space in 2015, and had my first art show in October of 2015. My health settled down so that I could more or less establish some work patterns.

I just thought I would show you a few of the paintings I finished along the way.

This is called "Night for a Moondance."

I named my show for this picture, which is about 36" x 25" matted and framed.

I was lucky enough to have my Unitarian Universalist community throw me and opening night, then allow me to have eleven paintings on display for a whole month!


While I did not sell my large paintings, I DID sell five paintings that were smaller! I also had the pleasure of seeing more than 80 people come to my opening night, show them how I do my work and just bask in the joy of it all. This painting is water color on tissues and lace papers. I paint my own papers, and every leaf is a torn bit of paper. The moonstar flowers are three layers thick, and there are parts of this that are about ten layers of paper. The waterfall is the 300 pound watercolor paper.

Anyway, I shifted from writing to painting for now. And I sing with my Thursday night women's spiritual singing circle. I am about to move YET again, back to my hometown of Manchester. I am excited about that because it is also where I share my studio space, and where my spiritual community is.  As those of you who followed me know, I am the last of my family--at least those with whom I was close. I have reconnected with dear Brother Jack's family, and my Dad's nephew Ken. Mostly, though, my friends remain the closest family I know.

I may have to write you all the story of Obsidianna, the REAL Easter Bunny, however. I mean, you all know about the proof of the existence of elves, but you may not realize that the real Easter Bunny is black. My mom taught me this as well, when I was about six or seven. Plus, there is a woodsprite named Verdrianna, who lives on the edge of a forest that borders the yard of a young boy and his little sister. I may need to write of them, too. We'll see. I have learned not to promise, and I do not expect many--if any of you--will read this. I realize my photos of paintings are on my phone and I need to transfer them to upload. That's okay, too.

In the meantime, it has struck me that I owe a great deal of the creative life I tend to lead now to this blog, to people who encouraged me, to the practice of writing my truth in here. I have contact with some of you on Facebook anyway, so that is wonderful. Regardless, if any old followers stop by, please know I am grateful that you read my harder stories. I am grateful that you took the time to tell me you were moved by my story of the hells of hospital stays and other things, and that you also cared about the lighter moments.

I hope to read any blogs that you all have kept up with in here. I suspect many are long-since abandoned. We move on in our lives and that's a good thing. Here is to lives of creativity, joy, growth, and love.