IAM A STUDENT OF natural LIGHT and the EVERYDAY miracle of NATURE.  I work in response TO HER POWER AND BEAUTY. MY ADVANCES AS A PAINTER HAVE largely come through challenging PASSAGES WHEN MY HEART was perhaps Sore but still open, VULNERABLE --- WHEN I FED MY INEXPLICABLE NEED TO DO THIS. WHILe PRIMARILY SELF-TAUGHT, I STUDIED WITH FRANK MASON FROM WHOM I LEARNED TECHNIQUE & who encouraged me TO START FRESh, Be brave, keep thinking.

Artist BIO

While still cartwheeling from place to place, I discovered drawing and was sure I’d be an artist when I grew up.  I entered college at the tender age of 16 as a studio major and sat before my first live model, ponderous and muscular. I had never seen a naked man. I remember that day with crystal clarity when my love affair with the observation of natural forms began.  But life, of course, took unexpected turns. I spent most of my professional career thus far in business, exercising my creative energies with tools other than paint and charcoal. The return to art was always somewhere just around the corner. My business bio is  here.

In my 30’s I studied with Frank Mason at the Art Students League in New York and in his outdoor atelier in northern Vermont.  I had five wonderful years as a painter.   But I left my studio temporarily for a business gig, and a lifetime went by in a blink.  I did not return until Covid handed me a silver lining, though I would occasionally get away with my field easel.   Meanwhile I was an entrepreneur, athlete, social activist, adventurer and in my best role, mother.  I have a BA in Art History and Ancient Greek from Wheaton College and an MPPM from the Yale School of Management. I also received three Honorary Doctoral degrees - I would say they are in the ongoing “Life Studies” discipline.

I am in flow when working no matter how well it is coming together.  Failure is a great teacher. I keep tucking learnings away for another day. When it does come together, I pull a thread through my six decades to that moment. And perhaps it speaks to someone. I don’t dare think about that when painting though, or I get in my own way.

A note about the raw experience of this work/obsession   I venture out to sometimes difficult locations carrying 35 pounds of gear. What I paint comes from the whole experience, starting with what I  bring in my thoughts and my heart at that moment, and then including all the physical realities from rocky slides, to crazy weather, critters and fast-changing light. It is dynamic, often breathless. I could choose easier conditions, but I wouldn't as often find what I am seeking. I trudge home in the dark through woods and marsh, headlamp on, pepper spray handy, sometimes with a scraped off panel to try again another day. Or maybe I hiked out in the dark to work the sunrise. Either way I am hungry and either cold or have fed the mosquitos.  I do my best to hang in and produce something worthy in response to the crazy wonderful stuff that goes on out there. It is very different from what I might do in a studio. Being outside taps into my best energy.

Lessons from Frank Mason    He taught me not to become attached to a part at the expense of the whole; to throw away what isn't working, lovely as it may be on its own; to remember that I have the ability to create something that wonderful again, and more; to not be afraid; to start fresh every moment; and to keep looking and thinking. Stretch, learn, translate, evaluate, use all the tools in your kit.  Painting is really hard work for your brain. Fun work.

Frank was a great artist and gifted teacher. He studied with Frank Vincent Dumond in my hometown of Old Lyme, CT, where the Lyme School of American Impressionists flourished with the encouragement of Florence Griswold. It is a gift to have connected with that tradition as an adult. As a student of Art History I didn't have much patience with impressionism but as a practicing painter the genius of being out there in nature is so obvious. I didn't put all that together until I met Frank.

Letting go of external definitions of success    Not long into Freshman year in college as a studio major, I became convinced I couldn’t be great. I wasn’t drawn to abstraction, experimental materials, political statements. I admired the flamboyant studio majors. I just didn’t have that kind of talent. All I could do was draw. I went over to academics and didn’t return to drawing until many years later when I needed to do something I loved. Eventually I let go, reluctantly, of the security of my resume, just to paint. This next time around I wasn’t after greatness, but I understood the gift of getting up in the morning to do the thing that makes my heart sing.

Blog entries about my process

OCTOBER 2022 — HOW LONG DID IT TAKE TO PAINT THAT 5X7?

A common question. The answer, about 60 years - as is the the case for many of us who are finding our depths later in life. I often clamp a small panel above the larger one on my easel.  When I'm really in flow (and not too hungry, cold and bug bitten) I distill what I have been working on with a short burst of intensity in the final moments. Often into the dark. I couldn't whip them off without the years of yearning to further explore my creative energies, life experience, learning to look/think, the hours of paint mixing, gear, and panel prep, the time finding and traveling to sites, the many duds I learn from, and the last several hours of trying to make that bigger panel sing....to get to these minutes of high-flow 5x7 clarity.

Note: This one I photographed, as usual, while still wet and on my easel. You can see the edge of the clamp in the upper right. I always mean to go back and do a better photography job when the paintings are dry.

DECEMBER 2022 — RAW AND PHYSICAL INTERACTION WITH NATURE IN THIS WORK/OBSESSION 

I venture out into the elements to sometimes difficult locations carrying 35 pounds of gear. What I paint is an expression of the whole experience including what I bring with me, emotionally and intellectually, and the conditions I encounter - rocky slides, crazy weather, critters and the fast-changing show nature puts on. It is dynamic, often breathless. I could select easier conditions but I wouldn't as often find what I am seeking. Some locations aren't what I was hoping for or I miss the moment. And even if it is heart-stopping gorgeous and I am on time, I often trudge home in the dark through the wood or marsh, headlamp on and pepper spray handy, with only a scraped-off panel to show for my learnings, to use on another outing. I do my best to hang in and produce something worthy in response to the crazy wonderful stuff that goes on in nature. Tall order. She never disappoints. And I am always, always happy to have participated/observed, whether or not I go home empty-handed. It is very different from what I might produce in a studio. Being outside works for me and taps into my best energy.