My Lover spoke,

"Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, come with me. See! The winter is past...flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come."

 Song of Solomon 2:10-13


About my painting....

“Art is relational - be it between art and artist, art and viewer, or artist and viewer.

For me, painting celebrates new life, where endings flow into beginnings. I want to create a beautiful space - an intimately personal interpretation alive with sensuous rhythms of intense color, palpable texture, and mixed media. The question, where one ends and the other begins ignites my process.

For you, there is nothing to understand in my paintings, only to see, feel, and experience with the senses.

 The painting invites us to just be, one with the other.”

About my story....

Authenticity. Living has never been about anonymity for me, but a burning desire to know and be known.

Maybe I was born wanting to be known by making beautiful marks. I used a pin to scratch triangular patterns across stained wood windowsills of our house. Mama put an end to that. She purchased a wooden art box with my name hand-painted and filled with tubes of colorful paint. My art journey began.

 I grew up in the south; summers immersed in Pamlico River water and Camellias blooming in winter. Tender petals showing off in luscious pinks, intense sun dancing like diamonds on the river. Color electrifies me, as does my groom, my best friend. Having his children transformed me. Motherhood: times of transformation marked by cycles of beginnings and endings. Maybe that’s why I’ve always loved flowers. That little seed planted in the ground gestates. At times appearing barren, inactive.  Then, at the appointed time, vibrant life bursts forth. The sun rising each new day. A new season.

Most of the time I wanted to be good: striving to earn approval by being whom I thought I should. “Shoulds": overrated and overwhelming. The mask came off when I admitted I was powerless over alcohol and found healing through power higher than myself. The truth about those"shoulds" is confronted in the message from the cross,  “It is finished.”  Good begins with forgiveness, of self and of others. Releasing expectations and “shoulds”. Trusting what is hoped. Faith.

My father actually suggested I pursue art in college. He understood my passion even before I did. I declined, afraid to expose intimate feelings about my art making to scrutiny. During my earlier seasons of homemaking and motherhood, the desire to draw and paint reemerged. As my role of caregiver to growing daughters and aging mother evolved, I poured creative energies into painting. My art journey has increasingly become space the Divine uses to grow my faith and make me aware of who I am.

Grace: receiving a gift, not because it is earned but only because of love, like another’s knowledge of my passion even before I understood, or that first art box with my name hand-painted.

I am known and marked as Beloved; free to love, forgive, and create. Painting makes me feel alive and is but one way to pray.