My beloved Grandma, otherwise known as Gigi, always used to say, “This too shall pass.” Far more than a cliché to her, the phrase allowed her to laugh in the face of life's tragedies. Her Irish merriment, sprinkled liberally through the years, seasons me still. It broke her heart to send her husband off to…Read more Summer Will Come
Here in Colorado, I breathe thick orange haze of Western wildfires, even as Texans stumble through water-logged debris, and evacuees flee Florida. With all its warts and weaknesses, America is the country I love. Generations of my family fought for the freedoms I cherish today. I've traveled the world and witnessed first-hand the alternatives to…Read more A Prayer for My Country
My beautiful and talented young friend, Brittin Lane Morrell, and I were merrily working on a photo-shoot for Pamba Toto when storm clouds churned overhead and wind blustered down the little alley where we were composing shots. Both our eyes lit up. We love storms. We corralled the wind into a couple shots, then…Read more Summer Rain – A Photo Essay
Astonished, I found Him, the Beautiful One, deep in a cranny of Mathare Valley, Kenya - the same One I glimpsed in the fissure of a Mother Teresa's home in Huruma, as I share below. It's enough to make my head spin - apparently, at least according to what my senses report, my body landed…Read more In the Cracks
In my travels around the world, I've witnessed excruciating suffering and pain. When I see a baby dying in Mathare Valley slum of Nairobi, Kenya for lack of a $20 medication, I don't think about painting a picture. I just need to get the money to the child's parents so she can see a…Read more Can Art Change the World?
I am thrilled and honored that two of my pieces will be included in the 2017 Loveland National Fine Art Show at the Lincoln Gallery, 429 North Lincoln Ave, Loveland, CO from March 31-April 29. I'll be attending the opening reception on April 14, from 6-8 pm and would love to see any friends who…Read more Art Show in Loveland, CO
I need to go. There is something the place will tell me, something my soul desperately needs to hear. There, windmills turn mindlessly. Like sentinels, they watch over masses paying homage at their base: fields rippling, yielding to frigid wind. The stalks blur into an aggregate of stark, browned-out hills. The windmills guard comings and goings, my…Read more Equilibrium