neurographic art
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Unbounded
december 4 evening, fierce frigid wind, intense snow squall. the first timei contemplate infinity,7 or 8 years old, i am in bed for the nightunder the eavesin the back bedroom,trying to figure it out:how can something go on forever?it has to end somewhere. doesn’t it?but, if it does, thenthere has to be something elseoutside it.… Continue reading
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Local Color
this planet, this single illimitable organism he is damariscotta, the place of many fish, the estuary where fresh and saltwater meet and life begins. he is the protesteron the bridge above the riveron a frigid midwinter morning, toes and fingers numb,standing up for democracy with others.he is the local bridge troll, stepping into each protester’sspace… Continue reading
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Reframing
opening the aperture i hang a seed wreath from a bare pussywillow branch—a wreath of seeds for my neighborhood wintering birds.i watch in wonder as word spreads with high-speed internet alacrity fromnuthatch to tufted titmouse to chickadee to cardinal,and i’m dazzled two days later when the weight of snow arches several pussywillow branches to create… Continue reading
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All Good
embraces with a line from Heidi Seaborn’s “What It’s Like to Fall in Love” i fall in love todaywith the snow plow driver who scrapes the blade against prospect street,and i love the machine’s backup beep beep beep as it maneuvers in the cul de sac.i’m in love with my weather-disrupted schedule& even the slippery… Continue reading
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The Stalls
The Stalls, in the lexicon of my family of origin, is a term that encompasses any and all behaviors that serve to make way for one to avoid doing something perceived to be objectionable for any reason. I’ve got The Stalls this morning. I’m avoiding having to park myself in the kitchen for a long… Continue reading
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Shaking Things Up
I like routines and rituals. To that end, twice a year, once in September and then again towards the end of the academic year, I sit mindfully with a self-drawn grid, with days of the week on the x-axis and until breakfast, until lunch, until dinner, and until bedtime on the y-axis. I start by… Continue reading
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Going Up in Smoke
To look for the good in some other circumstance than the one in which we find ourselves is to trash the only happiness we will ever have: now. Whether it pleases us or not, each moment is a gift. No matter how unpleasant the wrapping, inside is something wonderful that life wants to give us. —Polly… Continue reading
My Story
In 2014, I grab an unexpected opportunity to paint.
To make art.
I get hooked.
In 2015 I start a blog—a diary of my life as an artist.
I post my paintings and their stories. The good, the bad, the ugly.
My compass points: bust through fear, be playful, get messy, trust my gut.
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