How a painting becomes a part of its owner.

Bart's Books in Ojai is an outdoor bookstore - these paintings take you there.

To me summer is reading novels on the dock, the water lapping beneath, sun shimmering across the lake as it moves west to end the day.These days that book, once made of paper, curled at th edges and plump from a spray of unintended water, isn't seen as often. The digital world now brings Kindles and phones and iPads down to the dock, their titles secured in a matter of moments and delivered to one's fingertips to swipe and read. They don't warp with water, but could be render

In "The Summer Day", poet Mary Oliver sets out the question"Tell me, what is it you plan to do / with your one wild and precious life?" That question inspired my portrait of a young woman, abloom with bountiful flowers, face still tender and precious, as she grows into womanhood. It speaks of summer, fresh air and innocence - a time, like the season - that is fleeting and beautiful. This piece "Blossoming" (12" x 36") is showing at the Ojai Valley Museum beginning this week.

Summer. Heat. Tire Swing. No school. Dirty sneakers. Letting go. Feeling the pull of empty days.

I recently biked through the Netherlands, spending the first five days deep in the Dutch Golden Age of painting ( 1588-1670). What a glorious era it was - large paintings of the merchant class and small intimate life portraits (think Rembrandt, Vermeer, Van Dyck and one of my favorites, Pieter Saenredam.) In this first image my husband took of me in front of a giant Frans Hals painting I am a mirage - floating back into the seventeenth century.We biked through the countryside

I'm enjoying letting the inside peak out, creating portraits which speak volumes in a quiet, discreet way. Letting scraps of words, imagery, maps and musical notes breathe out from within one's portrayal. An assemblage of life's journeys, foibles and dreams, rising to the surface. Please stop in and visit my studio this Saturday, March 14, 10a-5p when I'm part of the mini studio tour featuring artists in Arbolada and Meiners Oaks.

Vintage typewriters. The CLUNK CLUNK of the metal arm reaching up to hit the rubber roller of the carriage. The ZING when one moves the carriage to the next line, and the ZIP sound rolling the paper in or out of the carriage. And the beauty of each perfectly round key sitting upright, open below, showcasing a single letter. Have you ever tried using a classic typewriter? The physical finger strength one needs to push down each key seems unbelievable given the easy tap delicac

My husband's first camera was a Kodak Retina S1, that still sits on a shelf in our home, standing proud, heavy and small. But what a big deal it was for him as a 6th grader when his father bought it for his birthday. The Kodak simplified f-stops and focus with pictographs - one could click the lens ring over to a mountain for a wide shot, a human head shape for a close up, or clouds or sun for lighting. What a world away that was - when shooting a photograph made one learn a

When I first walked into the house we would eventually purchase and live in for almost thirty years, it was an empty four-square two-story hull with rich wood bannisters and trim, wide oak floors, great windows and . . . a single, soft, welcoming chair. The former owners, who had lived there for the prior forty years, left it a bit tattered and definitely well-loved. I took it as a sign: curl up, this is your place. When I started this mixed media piece steeped in nostalgia -

I play around with paper from my life. I've been opening the sealed boxes that say 'love letters' in my high school handwritten script, taking the rubber bands off bundles of blue 'par avion' international letters from my years working in Asia, and diggning through old images and journals. Opening the past in written form is like opening a section of my mind that I have totally misplaced. It's right there - my thoughts, the experiences, the dilemmas I lived through, many of w

Painting of rumpled bed, window open

The theme of our new OSA show at the Ojai Valley Museum is Metamorphosis. Taken literally, it is the change from an immature to an adult form in insects and amphibians - but we also seem to apply it to change in humans. My piece in this show, titled Renata (a female name which means reborn in Latin), is a multi-media construction of a young woman who I photographed years ago. I painted my subject and used papers, writings and imagery from my own life to construct a dream-like

I love my little studio perched in the hills above Ojai. Perhaps one of its best features is the garage door which I had a carpenter cut into four distinct parts, creating a giant double Dutch door. I can open a quarter, a half or three quarters, depending on my fancy that day and the whims of wind and weather. Like many artists' studios, this main light source faces north so I get a lot of beautiful bounced light. Direct sunlight arrives only in early evening when the sun s

Matilija poppy in full bloom

When I paint I sometimes get almost as much paint on myself, the floor and the studio, as that which goes on the canvas. I'm the same way when I cook - it's both hands in quick motion, making snap decisions and going for it. I grab paint tubes, switch brushes, knock over the oil medium, drop paint-smattered rags on the floor which becomes it's own canvas. I have to wear overalls and aprons and old clothes because paint seems to find its way everywhere, including my cheeks or

With the Fall Open Studios Tour only two weeks away, we artists open our doors to the public and welcome the world to see our creations....

A proud father recently approached me at my open studio, asking if I could do a commission of his son and the 1958 MG-A he meticulously...

I recently spent five days in Arroyo Grande at a wonderful artist workshop at Willow Pond trying my hand at abstraction - building a...

1970something. The whir of a VW engine, the small wipers stuck mid-window, my father's strong hand on the delicate white steering wheel,...