Along A Winters Road

Along A Winters Road

Have you ever wanted to go for a drive on a cold winters day. A drive with no destination

in mind. It is amazing what you can find along a winters road.

4x4 oil on canvas panel.

For sale or auction at my DPW gallery. Just follow the link to pay via PayPal.

Snowed In

Snowed In

In a wonderland of snow is a place called familiar. A place which can find refuge from the cold.

This day I am lucky. This day the barn I stumbled across has a fireplace. Old and filled with cob webs but a sight of comfort as I fumble through my pocket and find a lighter. A little dry hay and a small fire which gets bigger as I add more hay. Warmth precious warmth. I peek out and realize what it is like to be snowed in.

4x4 oil on canvas panel. For sale or auction at my DPW gallery. Just follow the link to purchase via PayPal.

There's Hay Inside

s

There's Hay Inside

I can remember when I was youngwe went to visit friends who had a barn.

Yes it did have hay inside and I can still remember the musty sweet smell and I smile because

unlike what one would imagine. That smell was wonderful and brings back happy memories still today.

4x4 oil on gallery wrapped canvas. For sale or auction at my DPW gallery just follow the link to pay via paypal.

The Blue Roof

The Blue Roof

Ever noticed how a lot of barns have those graying roofs.Almost like an old

grandpa with gray hair. Weathered and worn, almost like those old grandpa's

with gray hair.

4x4 canvas panel.

Trapping Fears

Home Alone booby trap success.

(c) forallthosesleeping.buzznet.com

When I was a junior at the University of New Hampshire, there was a campus creepster on the loose. Not only did he peep like a Tom, he sought out girls leaving parties, followed them home then once they went to bed, broke into their apartments, scissors in hand.

His signature move was snipping the straps of women’s tops or cutting their clothes off altogether so that they’d awaken naked, confused and terrified of what happened to them in the night. The media quickly dubbed him “Jack the Snipper” grabbing headlines in the sleepy New Hampshire town with this juicy story – something destined for Dateline. Meanwhile, the more his name popped up, the more it terrified us.

In the span of a month, seven women reported having their downtown Durham apartments broken into. Some recalled waking up to a strange man standing over them, others reported waking up surrounded by their own tattered clothes. The 27-year-old non-student was spotted staring into windows and lurking in shadows.

My roommates and I lived on the first floor of one of those downtown apartments – the Red House. It was a very decrepit historic home converted into way-too-many separate apartments. Locks could be picked with a paperclip, if they even locked at all. Before the Snipper, we left it open for each other knowing inevitably we’d forget a key.

Our windows were on ground level, my roommates’ bed pushed against the porch window in our tiny room that was just large enough to fit our two twin beds with nothing more than a human wingspan to separate us.

The premise of Jack the Snipper was sick, twisted and frightening. During the heat of the police warnings of his presence, we took it upon ourselves to set up our own defenses in the form of booby traps. We pushed furniture up against our front door, dropped balls on the living room floor, laid out trip strings, and broke into our Christmas decorations hanging bells and noisemakers from door handles and doorways – anything to create a ruckus for a would-be intruder, ruining his attempts at stealth intrusion. We would not be his victims. Makeshift weapons were at the ready by our beds: brooms, maybe a bat or two. It was akin to McCaulay Culkin’s Home Alone set-up to catch the Wet Bandits, minus Matchbox cars and hot tar and feathers.

As ridiculous as it seems now, it allowed us to sleep soundly. We made it through that month with all of our tank tops intact and were able to discontinue the nightly obstacle course set-up after he was taken into custody – crisis averted.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if all fears could be sated with such simple solutions? Even if they realistically don’t stop the bad guys and bad things from coming, there’s something to be said for creating a safe zone – false security or not.

I haven’t yet been able to fashion a booby trap for cancer, something that’s impolitely invaded my personal safe zone for years now. However, I always have my thinking cap on cooking up solutions. I don’t think cancer would be phased by shards of glass Christmas ornaments nor a doorknob invisibly heated to burning temp by an electric charcoal lighter, just waiting for an unsuspecting hand to singe. It seems to be a warranted fear that can’t be blocked no matter how many safeguards are put up around it. I’d live surrounded by a ring of fire wearing a garlic bulb necklace if it’d keep the lymphoma from crossing – as long as the good stuff could still break through. 

(c) thefw.com

One Red Barn

One Red Barn

Somewhere out in the country surrounded by the stillness of life is a barn. A red barn that

has been standing for quite a long time. It is as if that barn red paint makes it

invincable to the sun and rain and snow. It is like some powerful force surrounds it and helps it to

last throughout the ages.

Another glowing beauty on a small 4x4 canvas panel.

 

The Wooden Gate

The Wooden Gate

Somewhere at the end of a road is a barn who someone carefully painted red. Though

weathered and worn it still stands as a constant reminder that country life is the most wonderful life

that one could hope for.

4x4 oil on canvas panel.

 

 

Country Red

Country Red

Today I decided to start a series of barns. Two things they will have in common is that

they will all have barns and second they will be painted on the small 4x4 canvas panel. They pack

a lot of punch to be so little. How many will I paint? I don't know. I will paint them until one day you will visit and see something else where a barn might have been.

Oil painting on 4x4 canvas panel yes that is 4inches x 4inches.

T Cells On the Offense

Among the many things I am grateful for this Thanksgiving weekend is something I no longer have: my rash. I was able to enjoy the three Thanksgiving celebrations with three familial sets and cheer on Craig in a turkey day road race sans the itchy red spots that had been haunting me.

As of Wednesday, the red brail faded into a vague purpleness, no longer raised and angry. With this good report, I got the go-ahead to start back on the Revlimid treatment pills back at the original 10mg. This is half the dosage I was on when the rash set in.

I was eager to get back on the treatment, worried that I would lose any momentum I had gained against the disease. However, getting back on hasn’t been easy. It seems my body easily forgot the semblance of balance it had found once it got used to the drug. It’s again been a shock to the system.

Tumor flare seems to be again well, flaring. Ouch. My mid-back hurts tremendously. It hurts for a couple of days before I went back on the treatment pill and now that I’m taking it again, the pain has increased. I take the medication before bed so I don’t have to deal with its ramifications during the day. For these first few days back on the Revlimid wagon, this has meant waking up throughout the night with pretty tremendous pain in my hips and back, the areas where lymphoma lies/laid.

I’m not surprised, and I guess this is good. Pain means that the Revlimid is jacking up my immune system and flooding those diseased areas with natural killer cells. The process causes a lot of internal inflammation in my bones where there’s not a lot of room for extra cells. It feels at times as if my hipbones will just give out. I’ll check in with my Columbia team on Monday, but I’m pretty confident that they’ll say: yup, this is likely tumor flare; it’s the drug doing its job.

I ride it out with Aleve, breathing, microwaveable heating pad and stretching. The nighttime pain keeps sleep elusive and the first hours of the morning extra creaky. It’s manageable most of the time through the day, though I’m certainly hoping things calm down a little. In this case, pain is proof positive. With that in mind, I can endure it.

Getting to play with my niece and nephew and now frolicking in full-swing Christmas season and everything that brings is a beautiful distraction. Best painkillers out there. 

This is an incredible microscopic look at what we hope is happening in my body. The Revlimid is working to ramp up those receptors on the natural killer cells (the red dots) so that they will latch onto the cancer cells and eat them for dinner just like this video demonstrates: 

Hoar's Frost

Hoar's Frost

Once I lived in Wyoming and it would be so cold. Some days we would go out early and

the air would be filled with those sparkling crystals and everything would be crisp and white.

It had a beauty like no other. I loved it.

4x4 oil on canvas panel

For sale or auction at my DPW gallery just follow the link to pay via PayPal

Autumn Flare

Autumn Flare

Pumpkins say it all right. Autum flare.... Who hasn't been on a hay ride or fall festival...

That cool crisp air makes it all the better.

4x4 oil on canvas panel.

For sale or auction at my DPW gallery just follow the link to pay via PayPal

The Man in the Distance

The Man in the Distance

Happy Thanksgiving

Yes I am a scare crow and I work both night and day to keep those pesky crows

out of this pumpkin patch. Wow! my job is hard. I am sucessful though.

No crows here today....

4x4 oil on canvas panel

For sale or auction at my DPW gallery via PayPal

 

It's Snowing

It's Snowing

A light dusting of snow is the most magical feeling. The first snow melting in your hair and the feeling as that cool winter air touches your face is the most wonderful thing I can imagine. It feels like Christmas everyday of the year.

4x4 oil painting on canvas panel. For sale or purchase at my DPW gallery. Just follow the link to pay via PayPal.

Words Frozen in Time

At the beginning. I love you and am proud of you, sweet girl. 

I’ve actually been taking tangible steps toward recreating this blog into a book for a wider audience.  A huge part of getting a manuscript and proposal ready to pitch to literary agents and publishers has been going back through it all, rereading, editing, organizing, trimming. That’s been a journey in and of itself and I realize why it’s taken me so long to find the strength to be able to do it. It’s eerie and it's tough to relive it all and to hear my own voice and perspective change as I read about everything I’ve been through. 

However, I’m confident that I’m finally in a place where I can handle it and see past my own insecurities to the greater good that sharing this story can bring. Someone told me in the very beginning that I should write a book but I thought that my cancer story wasn't unique enough; I had an "easy" cancer that'd be cured with simple therapy. Well, now I've certainly got a lot more fodder to work with. My story most definitely isn't mainstream.

It’s strange because I read it and just feel awful for this young woman. I know what’s going to happen, obviously, but even so am disappointed with every relapse and devastated at the side effects and choices that had to be made. I read it as if it’s not me, but someone else, a coping mechanism I’m familiar with relying on. The blog has helped me to remove myself from this whole situation and now creating it in another medium is like setting another layer of padding. I truly don’t recognize myself in some entries. In others, I remember myself in those moments far too intimately and it can be very painful to relive. It’s been a taxing and revealing creative process so far.

I’m through the first year of treatment and am stunned and rather happy with how naive I was, blissfully unaware of what was to come, but because of that, wrecked by what was happening to me at the time.

At six weeks I wrote that I was sick and tired of having to go through the chemo treatments and deal with the side effects. Six weeks? It’s now been grappling with this disease for 182 weeks.

I wrote about how I could barely drag myself to my eighth ABVD treatment, that I stalled impossibly and even drove past the cancer center to park in a school lot to cry it out until I could muster enough strength to walk through those doors. I’ve now had more than 30 different chemotherapy combinations at five institutions.

I celebrated on my 12^th ABVD treatment that I would never be in a chemo chair again; how wrong could I be?

I wrote over and over about how I wanted my port out immediately after treatment. I've now been rocking that chest implant for three years, the third nipple now a permanent fixture I contend with. 

I was proud of myself for never having puked during all my front-line treatment. Little did I know I'd be making up for it tenfold every day through allo transplant, puking becoming a regular part of my routine and wardrobe accouterments. 

I didn’t even know how to spell “autologous” stem cell transplant. I kept writing it as “analogous.” Now I know far more about cancer treatment and its varied therapies than I ever wanted to learn, keeping up with doctors in conversations about HDAC inhibitors, immunomodulators and cell receptors with ease.

I love 26-year-old, freshly diagnosed Karin, but I also want to tell her to wake up, ask her to pay more attention and be more patient, laugh at her unbridled optimism and unfettered confidence that she would overcome and conquer without question. I want to tell her not to be so easily influenced, to seek more research and to stop obsessing about why this happened.

I also want to hug her and have a lot to learn from her, from those very same things I was feeling at the beginning of all of this, a self-assurance that I’ve lost along the way, conceding that no longer am I pushing past, but instead accepting this as my life.

And it’s not just because I’m living with cancer. Any of us who look back at our personal reflections from nearly four years ago will find change, growth and evolution. Growing into myself from a 26 year old to a 30 year old has been fascinating to chronicle, never knowing all along that I’d be doing so for so long.

Reading that emotional and intellectual development is striking and a big reason why I think it’s a story that needs to be told. It is so deeply rooted in truth and honesty of what I knew at that time and what I felt at that moment, not clouded by the experiences I have should I be writing it looking back with today’s perspective. Today’s perspective is completely different having been shaped by experiences I never could have fathomed in the beginning.

We have no idea what we can overcome until we have no choice but to do so. It makes me proud and humbled and (sometimes) fearless. When looking at what I’m grateful for during this time of thanks giving, it’s that “thing,” whatever it is, a combination of many things, that got me through all of that and continues to carry me through allowing me the joy to wake up to another morning and all the beautiful possibilities it brings. Holy shit it’s been a crazy ride, my ride.

Mainly Yellow

Mainly Yellow

What is the focus here? Is it the yellow flower or the mason jar. I like to think it is the

jar but when I first look I see Mainly Yellow.

6x6 oi on gallery wrapped canvas. For sale or auction via my DPW gallery. Just follow the link to purchase via PayPal.

 

Grazing

Grazing

A lone cow grazing in the green grass oh so content. That is how I feel when I am eating

something good. Content. 

Oil on 6x6 gallery wrapped canvas

For auction or sale at my DPW gallery. Follow the link to purchase per Paypal.

Family Talk

Family Talk

After finishing this painting I was studying it to decide a name and it just 

appeared to me as a family discussion. Maybe like that a mom might give

to her children about some important life lessons.

6x6 oil on gallery wrapped canvas

Not available

GIddy Up Joe

Giddy Up Joe

Yet another painted for a challenge at 

www.dailypaintworks.com

I just could not resist

6x6 oil on canvas panel

For sale or auction via my DPW gallery just follow the link to purchase

via PayPal

Just a Little Tomato

Just a Little Tomato

I love good big juicy tomatoes with just a sprinkle of salt.

Yum Yum

6x6 oil on canvas panel. For sale or auction at my DPW gallery. Just follow the link

to purchase via PayPal.

Revlimid Rash Out

Baldwin Hills Scenic Overlook, Culver City

This week will be a one-blog-entry week due to a variety of reasons, not the least of which are jet lag and a raging red rash.

Steve’s memorial was beautiful, respectful, and inspiring. The positive, loving energy among the nearly 300 people that filled the LA studio where it took place was palpable. So many good people that he had attracted in his life and it’s no surprise that they were all there to pay tribute to such an incredible person that had impacted their lives as he has mine. The day was full of laughter, shared stories, touching moments and positivity among Steve’s favorite breakfast foods and drinks.

It was an honor to get to meet his family and to be able to tell them how much their son meant to me. In and of itself, it was worth the cross-country flight to be able to hug his wife, Jen, in person and to hear her speak so eloquently about the loss of her soul mate.

Sunset in Santa Monica

Though I wish he was still here, I left having learned more about his life and the way that he lived it giving me such a dose of positive inspiration and an acceptance of the natural rhythms of life and death that I needed at this time. The lessons that he taught through his witty and thoughtful ways did not die with him; they will always live on inside all of us who were fortunate enough to have had him in our lives.

California was beautiful as always. Though we were there for barely as long as the travel time took, we revisited Santa Monica Pier to watch the sun set on the beach and took in the entire city from the top of Baldwin Hills Scenic Overlook in Culver City. The walk down the deep and sprawling set of stairs left me with a ripped left calf and quad muscle after baby-stepping the whole way in flip flops, but the bird’s eye view of the Hollywood sign and downtown LA in the distance was completely worth it. It was the perfect prep to get our bearings before attending the memorial.

We got home to Connecticut late Monday night. I took a shower to shed all the travel germs after two flights. As I was soaping my back, my fingers ran over a bumpy terrain of skin. I showed my naked back to Craig and asked him if anything was there.

It feels like it looks.

“Yup. You’ve got a rash,” he said, a little worry and a little disgust mixed in his voice.

I craned my neck to catch my reflection in the mirror and saw my lower back was filled with raised red dots scattered and rashing across my body.

Oh no, I thought and went to bed frightened about what my body would look like when I awoke. I didn’t know if I picked up some communicable disease in our travels, bed bugs, or if suddenly my new immune system decided to start eating away at my skin (aka Graft vs. Host Disease). This wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. It was something I’d been pining for since my allo transplant failed. As every doctor has said, a little GvHD is a good thing.

As expected I awoke with more red dots. The rash had crept all down my legs, along the back of my arms and further up my back. It was hot and turned wildly itchy at the touch.

This is a good thing?

I calmly took pictures of the most concentrated areas, including my face, which had a completely different type of red patches on it making me look a bit like a burn victim. I sent them off to my nurse at Columbia and explained to her that it all exploded as soon as I got back home. In addition to the rashes, my throat was very swollen and my uvula was hanging heavy and wide back there. Same was happening down the other end of the tract – if you catch my drift. I was a hot mess.

She called me right back and said that this wasn’t something they haven’t seen before, but to hold the Revlimid and to start up a steroid dose pack on top of my regular Prednisone course immediately. And, they would want to see me in clinic the next day for examination.

Even after skipping my Revlimid dose and starting up the steroid pack on Tuesday, I awoke yesterday with more red dots now on my stomach and the tops of my feet. However, my throat opened back up, and for that I was grateful.

Sexy, spotted leg

My mom picked me up yesterday morning to accompany me to the city. Ninety minute car ride, circles around New Haven to find parking, 103-minue train ride, 15-minute cab ride and we were at Dr. O’Connor’s clinic at Madison and 5^th. 

I was uncomfortable the whole way, body hot and itchy requiring every ounce of restraint not to scratch myself silly.

Dr. O took a long, hard look at my rash appearance. He and the nurse lifted my shirt and took a little gasp, but he immediately said:

“Easy. Put your clothes on and we’ll talk.”

Turns out he was concerned that we might have induced GVHD, but after getting an in-person examination he was confident that my rash was a result of the Revlimid – something they’ve seen creep in on other patients as well when they got up to the 20mg dosage that I’d been taking for 11 days.

He thoroughly explained to my mom and me the mechanics of why this was happening and that though it’s uncomfortable, it’s a pretty darn good sign that this drug is working. I like him. He’s incredibly smart, thorough and very funny. We did a lot of ball busting among him, my mom and me and that certainly helped to lighten my fear.

Reminds me of my middle school acne days

Clinically, all of this appears to mean that the Revlimid is stimulating my immune system exactly as it’s supposed to. It can be pretty confidently assumed that if it is ramping up enough to cause a rash of this grade then it is likely also becoming active against the remaining lymphoma in my body. We can only hope.

However, I can’t keep going at this dosage, and he didn’t expect that I would be able to. He is working to tailor this treatment exactly to each patient’s tolerance to maximize the effect of the drug and minimize the side effects until we find a perfect balance.

I am to hold the Revlimid until the rash goes away completely. They predict that this will be the case by the end of the weekend. Then, I’ll go back on at 10mg. As long as all remains stable at that dose we’ll start rotating in a few days at 20mg and go from there.

Dr. O doesn’t want to check a scan until at least January to give time for this to work, not wanting to “peek” too soon. Instead, he wants me to enjoy the holidays and if I’m feeling well and doing everything I love to do in January we may even bump the scan off to February. This is a strange concept for me to handle, but I guess this is what it means to treat this disease as a chronic condition.

I’m as itchy as I am hopeful that this is a treatment that will get me to long-term remission and train my immune system to keep this cancer at bay forever.

Until this passes, I’ll have to continue to endure Craig lovingly calling me “Spot” or referring to the “brail” on my back when he slathers it in hydrocortisone for me and my mom referring to me as straight-up “Rash.” Funny, guys.

I’ve only had a few scratch session breakdowns, finding comfort squirming around on the hard, satisfying texture of our rattan dining room rug to get those hard to reach and incredibly itchy foot bottoms and toe spaces. If I can restrain from touching it, it’s not too bothersome, but once anything chafes it, all bets are off. 

Chosen Destiny

Chosen Destiny

My destiny is to be with this fragile vase. From a

flowers stand point that is a pretty good place to be.

6x6 oil on a gallery wrapped canvas.

For sale or auction at my DPW gallery. Just follow the link

to purchase via PayPal.

Stopped Up

Stopped Up

My stopped is in place and I am feeling a little stuffy.

That is because I am all Stopped Up.

6x6 oil on gallery wrapped canvas. For sale or auction at my DPW gallery. Just follow the link to purchase via PayPal.

Hi

Hi

Hi it's me again. I have been painted before and I like. I like being the cneter of attention.

Cheesin it up....That is what I am doing.

6x6  oil on gallery wrapped canvas.

For sale or auction at my DPW gallery just follow the link to purchase via PayPal.

 

Old Flames

Old Flames

Old flames can't hold a candle to you. The words of an old old song yet that

is still what I say to my husband, my best friend.

6x6  oil on gallery wrapped canvas.

For sale or auction at my DPW gallery just follow the link to purchase per PayPal.

I Won't Get In There

I Won't Get In There

fast as you can you can't catch me I am the gingerbread man. 

I am just a lonely gingerbread man. Oh yes I have friends inside that jar. I won't get in there. I like it out here better. How long can I continue to resist..... As long as it takes.

For sale or auction at my DPW gallery just follow the link to pay via PayPal

Just Playing Around

Just Playing Around

Just playing around with color that is. 

6x6 oil on canvas panel

For sale at my DPW gallery just follow the link to purchase via PayPal

Saying Goodbye

Tomorrow we fly to Los Angeles, California, to say goodbye to my friend, Steve. Comprehending and accepting his death has been extremely difficult for me. I feel that being there with others who loved him celebrating his life will be the best way to find some peace and allow myself to better let go of the anger and the pain knowing that I was able to honor him and thank him for the friendship he gave me.

Craig is coming with me in strong support, and we both want to be there for Steve’s wife, Jen, who has always been there for us from across the miles in the most difficult of times. This time is undoubtedly beyond painful for her. I am eager to learn more about Steve’s life pre-cancer and to meet the friends and family that also loved him.

Part of his day of honor will include his favorite drinks and watching the Eagle’s football game, so I'm expecting laughs and good memories amid the sad parts. They’re calling it a celebration of his life; I look forward to being able to do just that. My life was changed for the better because of him, and I want to honor his life and the path we walked together living with this disease.

I know it will be hard; I can’t help but project my own fate, but I know that it will also be cleansing and inspiring. I just have to be there. I am following my heart on this one. 

Red Faced

Red Faced

This barn really does have a glowing apearence. It is on a small canvas

yet carries a lot of punch.

4x4 oil on canvas panel

For sale or auction at my DPW gallery just follow the link to purchase via PayPal.

Fairly Odd Couple

Fairly Odd Couple

A cup and an apple quite the unlikely pair unless you are

going to make some delicious apple cider.

6x6 oil on canvas panel

For sale or auction at my DPW gallery follow the link to purchase via PayPal

Hope Endures

image copyright washingtonpost.com

"I have always believed that hope is that stubborn thing inside us that insists, despite all the evidence to the contrary, that something better awaits us so long as we have the courage to keep reaching, to keep working, to keep fighting." - Barack Obama 

I was thrilled to tears to wake up in the early hours of the morning to hear that President Barack Obama had earned another term in office. I look forward to four more years under his steadfast leadership. His intelligence, diplomacy, compassion, and determination are inspiring to me. I love listening to him speak. I love his respect for the diversity of our country's people and our varied needs. I love that he looks at the big picture – to our nation's future – and pragmatically makes decisions that support and encourage success for everyone, building an environment that cultivates the understanding that we're all in this together. 

I am honored to have taken part in this historic election and to have been able to witness footage of the droves of others casting their votes as well, despite long lines, power outages, home destruction and makeshift poling places. It makes me proud to count myself among so many Americans passionate about our country and the issues that build its culture and its place in the world. 

I have hopes for continued forward momentum and now after a grueling election season, a government that is less partisan and divisive and rather one that can find common ground on the issues that the American people have spoken so clearly and passionately about during this election year. 

Below are some excerpts from President Obama's moving victory speech that particularly stood out to me:  
       

"Democracy in a nation of 300 million can be noisy and messy and complicated. We have our own opinions. Each of us has deeply held beliefs. And when we go through tough times, when we make big decisions as a country, it necessarily stirs passions, stirs up controversy.

That won’t change after tonight, and it shouldn’t. These arguments we have are a mark of our liberty. We can never forget that as we speak people in distant nations are risking their lives right now just for a chance to argue about the issues that matter, the chance to cast their ballots like we did today."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

"And whether I earned your vote or not, I have listened to you, I have learned from you, and you’ve made me a better president. And with your stories and your struggles, I return to the White House more determined and more inspired than ever about the work there is to do and the future that lies ahead."

 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

"But that doesn’t mean your work is done. The role of citizens in our Democracy does not end with your vote. America’s never been about what can be done for us. It’s about what can be done by us together through the hard and frustrating, but necessary work of self-government. That’s the principle we were founded on.

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"This country has more wealth than any nation, but that’s not what makes us rich. We have the most powerful military in history, but that’s not what makes us strong. Our university, our culture are all the envy of the world, but that’s not what keeps the world coming to our shores.

What makes America exceptional are the bonds that hold together the most diverse nation on earth.

The belief that our destiny is shared; that this country only works when we accept certain obligations to one another and to future generations. The freedom which so many Americans have fought for and died for come with responsibilities as well as rights. And among those are love and charity and duty and patriotism. That’s what makes America great."

Feelers

Feelers

What a name? I am laughing but that is what all those cherry stems reminded me of.

I was practicing color here with a limited palette. I read some instruction from artist Carol Marine and tried

to apply some of what she said. I think I will try it again. I mixed my own grays. 

I am pretty pleased with how it turned out. 

6x6 oil on canvas panel

For sale or auction at my DPW gallery just follow the link to purchase via PayPal

Don't Look Down On Me

Don't Look Down On Me

I might not be much but I really am a somebody. Why are you looking at me?

Don't look down on me...

6x6 oil on gallery wrapped canvas.

Oil on 6x6 canvas panel. 

SOLD

On Display

On Display

Yet another yellow flower painting. I have been doing several flowers in a clear glass vase. 

How many more will I do? I don't know right now only time will tell.

Oil on 6x6 gallery wrapped canvas.To purchase follow the link to 

my DPW gallery where this painting is available for auction or sale via PayPal

A Comfortable Place

I painted over another painting. I had always thought about doing

this but decided that it was time. This is painted on a 20x16 gallery wrapped canvas

For sale or auction at my DPW gallery. Just follow the link to purchase via PayPal

 

The Bottom of The Bowl

The Bottom Of The Bowl

One little cherry left alone in the bottom of the bowl. How fitting as it could be

devoured already by some hungry child.

Oil on 6x6 canvas panel.

For sale or auction at my DPW gallery. Just follow the link to pay via PayPal

Visible Ink 2012 Staged Reading Video

After several months of editing, the 2012 Visible Ink Staged Reading was posted to Sloan-Kettering's website. Below is the performance of my piece, "Kitchen Charades." Please visit the program's website and check out the other fantastic pieces of writing staged that April evening – one of the most humbling of my life.  

Visible Ink is a one-on-one writing program for patients at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center that offers opportunities for self-expression, stress reduction, personal growth, and individual success at a time when many participants face the considerable challenge of a serious illness.

I am forever grateful to the program's founder and my mentor, author Judith Kelman, and the opportunities for creative outlet and confidence building that this program has brought me. I was so honored and in awe to hear my words being performed by Broadway actors that night. Even watching the video and hearing the audience's reaction is still surreal to me. 

Judith and I continue to work together on my writing. I send her monthly stories that we hone and polish together. I'm wrapping up two pieces to submit for publishing and staging consideration for the 2013 anthology and performance. The program gives me focus, purpose and a place of inspiration and comfort. 

My piece ends at 4:30. As it was the last piece to be performed, the closing song is wrapped into my segment as well (also worth a listen).

 

Perked Up

Perked Up

Sunflowers with heads held high giving back the joy and warmth they gleamed form the

sunshine on this oh so wonderful day. 

Oil on 6x6 gallery wrapped canvas

Available for auction or purchase from my DPW gallery. Follow the

link to purchase via PayPal