Menu
recent writings
the creative process
your creative process
from the road
It began with a letter in my inbox from Ingrid Fetell Lee …imagine you have a secret room in your home that nobody else will ever see—what would it look like?
Sidestepping and other artistic dance moves you might not be familiar with…
I create. A lot. Though I often feel like I don’t.
In search of wonder, blue waves whitened on a cliff
Creativity is sacred, and it is not sacred. What we make matters enormously, and it doesn’t matter at all. We toil alone, and we are accompanied by spirits. We are terrified, and we are brave.
Every painting is different. I thought you might enjoy the unique experience of seeing how just one of mine comes together.
I spent the day with an extraordinary friend… So many other ways I could spend this day, but the question is—-are they any better than being in the presence of such magnificence?
What If Today: Maple, Magnificence and You
If you do what your heart desires, the work will always get done. Don’t make your life wait while you do ‘everything else.’
Rosé and laughter with folks I rarely see these days Me in my natural habitat…
My two cents worth on getting started? Begin from where you are at this very moment— doing what you can with what you have.
A world without. Imagine that.
We would still have grand beauty no doubt For there are the canyons deep and turquoise reefs And the falling of nature painted leaves And the dance of swallows in a murmur And the pacing of the jungle lion The sound of the rain And the visions of the starry nights and rainbows days
But when we add in the artists—what we get is this beautiful planet and the heavens beyond translated into new ways of seeing and touching and feeling— laced with human emotion
Feel the cool blue breeze like a breath of fresh air coming in from the Mediterranean, all for you in this letter
A place where sea and sky and soul meet for refreshment. Bring your drink, a favorite book and maybe your journal. Let yourself breathe into this space.
‘A snapshot of you in Paris. Musings and watercolor stories coming to life in the journal you hold. Maybe a bit nostalgic, thinking of a young Hemingway writing away in the cafe you now sit, munching on your pastry and café. You sweep the hair back off your brow and begin tracing the lines of…
Perhaps the biggest thing that has stood in my way is my own belief that I was less…
When in doubt, do this I would love for you to read the following slowly, for that is how I wrote it and how I hear it. Pause to hear yourself in these lines
We can only answer to that which calls to us.
