I’ve painted since I was young and inherited my grandmother’s old forest green paint box and stiff brushes. After all these years, I’ve no idea where that box has gone, but I still love to paint more than any other medium. I see colors, shapes, and shadows everywhere and collect them within my heart, making compositions in my head when there are moments to daydream.
With the business of raising four children with a 16-year age span, homeschooling for ten years (and now again, in the midst of these pandemic days) and experiencing a whole lot of transitions in these last 20+ years, there still hasn’t been a regular-season of making art. But, I’m carving out space now, even if it’s just a small pocket a week, to create again in my little white-walled closet of a studio. Those moments are golden.
I’m currently exploring and praying through ideas of art concerning serving and working alongside the indigenous artisans here in our town in Mexico. I believe there will be more to say about all that. For now, I’ll use this little spot to post my work as it comes (and older pieces), with the hope that much will translate from my life upon canvas and paper.
Please do not re-post/copy these original compostions without permission! Please also note that the piece of the woman bearing the load of pots is based on another artists drawing (I do not know who, as is often the case in Mexico), so I take no original credit.