Creatively Thinking

  Featured image: Tree, Tree, Tree Trees Early morning, it is a nice time to speak to the trees and connect to them and they to me as we together connect to the sky and the earth and start our day. Listening to the wind twisting the leaves in the aspen trees. I can’t imagine not being able to hear this sound in the mornings. I can’t imagine not being able to see the leaves twist with the wind, and hearing this sound and this movement. They are such a blessing. They are so beautiful to me. You are so beautiful To me You are so beautiful To me Can't you see You're everything I hoped for You're everything I need You are so beautiful To me — “You Are So Beautiful,” written by Billy Preston and Bruce Fisher Earth. Trees.

  Featured work: Airplane sculpture In the new work I have been creating, the word assemblage has been creeping into my vocabulary. So it makes sense that I began reviewing the history of “assemblage” in the arts. Needless to say, I also ran across the word in academia. I shouldn’t be surprised—but I kind of was. AI briefly states that assemblage theory was developed by two Frenchmen—of course—Deleuze and Guattari, and then popularized by Manuel DeLanda. They view assemblage theory as social and material reality as fluid groupings of heterogeneous elements rather than fixed entities. Assemblages are formed by interactions between people, objects, and ideas, creating properties greater than their parts. But artists already knew that. Assemblages are the relational system of things, practices, habits, bodies, concepts, and environments that give rise to an emergent and coherent logic. The first assemblage artists I came across were Louise Nevelson and Robert Rauschenberg. I ask myse...

  Featured image: What Lies Beneath Stepping over the line—most of the time, we are led to believe that isn't a good thing. That is the bottom line. But for me, like so many things in life, not everything is as it first appears. Stepping over that line—be it red, purple, orange, yellow, or blue—is the place where discovery and adventure begin. It is stepping outside my comfort zone and into the playground. It is where true growth happens. It is the place of being on the edge. And it is where the light of your potential and mine awaits. Perhaps that is simply another way of thinking about stepping over that red line.

  Featured work: Little Bird “I begin with an idea and then it becomes something else.” — Pablo Picasso

  Featured image: Summer Winds Sat with the wind today—what a blessing. It brought abundance after the smoke and heat. I so embraced this abundance. It was like dancing with a whole new universe, and I opened my arms with gratitude to the wonderful possibilities and fresh flow of life it brought after all the smoke and heat, creating a new cycle of joy and growth. It's as though the smoke had stifled all things, and now its curtain has been lifted, and a new day has begun. I am cultivating this new mindset and feeling blessed, opening my heart to these infinite possibilities. Imagining... vibrant gardens, tending and nurturing these new seeds I am planting in the wind, with the wind.

  Featured work: Yellow Bird At this moment, this very moment, I wish I could be a tiny warbler and answer the call of a male warbler singing his heart out. Calling, calling for a mate. His song is so glorious and pure on this sunny morning. Now I hear another. Glorious morning. In the weavings I am currently doing, I hope I am showing that everything is connected. Everything is like a weaving, whether tightly woven or loosely woven. The papers are woven together one way or another. Adornments are added, stories are told as I work. Things are connected, like the warblers, their song, and me this morning. Glorious morning.

  Featured work: Blackbird Lyrics: Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free Blackbird, fly
Blackbird, fly
Into the light of the dark black night Blackbird, fly
Blackbird, fly
Into the light of the dark black night Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise Source: Musixmatch Is this not a powerful song? For me, it is like the message of Christ. It is a song of hope. It is a song of freedom. It is a song of struggle. And it is a song about life. It is a song about life that applies to all of us throughout history. In this song, the symbolism is a blackbird,...

  Featured work:  Whirly - Gig I have a magnet on my magnet board that says Why Be Normal? I have always thought that artwork that matches the pillows on your sofa is a normal thing to do. As an artist I often find myself asking, WHY do people like to be normal? Like a wind-up toy. Someone winds up your key, and you just waddle about like everyone else. You don't have to think for yourself—it is easier if someone else thinks for you. Just take the blue pill like in the movie The Matrix where taking the blue pill means the story ends, and you wake up in your bed believing whatever you want to believe. It allows you to return to the blissful ignorance of everyday life and avoid having to think about or question reality. Everything is blissfully normal and boring. Normality doesn't celebrate differences. Normal rarely changes. But things do change. We are not merely different; we are unique—one of a kind, one in a million. There are millions of us, yet each of us is singular. We ...

  Featured image: 002 Stories Series I have been creating different things lately from new ideas that have come from new thinking. This, for me, is always wonderful and exciting. It’s the weaving of paper in my work that is triggering this new thinking. The weaving is abstract, like life, like history, and each thread of paper represents a time and a place in history. Wherever/whatever may have come next, this thread weaves a wonderful tapestry of time. The tapestry of time passes by so quickly that we often don’t even see it. We miss it. It is invisible, but it connects us. It feels like a divine glue that connects us. It is there—perhaps it always was—and when we look back, we can describe it. The tapestry's purpose was to create a connection to whatever is next. Most of us, like myself, can look back and create it.

  Featured image:  Coffee With a Little Yellow Bird At The Bird Bath Coffee in the garden this morning. Hummers buzzing overhead. One turns its tiny head, looking cautious. Another comes. Their buzz is so distinctive. The phlox is in full bloom; the colors are so prolific and wonderful. A much-needed shower seems to have just passed by, as everything is wet and glistening, covered with raindrops and rainbows. Birds chirping in the woods. Chipmunks scampering underfoot. I am not feeding them as much this summer, so there don't seem to be as many of them. The same goes for the red squirrels. I guess I have learned my lesson. As much as I enjoy them, they really are destructive. The gray squirrels let me know they don't like the change. They climb the screens and eat my red plastic lawn chairs. I wonder what it is in the plastic that they like, or if they are sending me a message. I wonder what I could put on the chairs to stop them, because they really are destroying them. I tru...

  Featured image: Our Stories Lately, I have been thinking about how important it is to tell our own personal stories. After all, they are our history. Many times—often, for that matter—we feel shut down. We feel shut down for various reasons, often very petty reasons. For example, recently I was told I couldn't do a particular something because, listen to this, "we haven't done it before." Really! Now, if I was breaking a major rule or something, I would consider it worthy of discussion, but I wasn't. I was merely telling the story behind one of my works of art. I was told I couldn't tell the story because it hadn't been done before. That only made sense to me if it would harm others in the process, which it wouldn't. The other reason was that others weren't allowed to do it. I couldn't understand that reasoning, but at the same time, I said to myself, if others wanted to do it, then let them see my example and ask if they could also do it. I ...

  I’m honored and grateful to share that my artwork Ringmaster’s Coat has been invited to exhibit in INNOVATIONS 2026, the 35th Annual International Open Juried Exhibition presented by the International Society of Experimental Artists (ISEA), at the Tubac Center of the Arts in Tubac, Arizona. My work often explores the space between the real, the imagined, and freedom. Ringmaster’s Coat continues that exploration, inviting reflection on identity, transformation, and the stories we create about ourselves and the world around us. I’m deeply honored to have this piece included among the innovative work of artists from around the world. My sincere thanks to juror Ash Dahlke, the International Society of Experimental Artists, and the Tubac Center of the Arts for this meaningful opportunity. The exhibition will be on view November 6, 2026, through January 3, 2027. Thank you, as always, for supporting my work and sharing in this journey.

I’m feeling especially grateful to share that three of my works— Rosie , Wings , and Water Falling —have been accepted into Wisconsin ART from the NORTH , presented by Wisconsin Visual Artists at ArtStart Galleries in Rhinelander. This exhibition received 176 entries from 70 artists, with 73 works by 52 artists selected by jurors Tom Uttech, Kelly Jean Olm, and Kyle Knoke. I’m truly honored to have all three of my pieces included. Nature has always been at the heart of my work. Whether inspired by the quiet presence of birds or the ever-changing movement of water, I continue to explore the connections between the natural world, imagination, and the stories they invite us to discover. My sincere thanks to the jurors, Wisconsin Visual Artists, and ArtStart Galleries for this wonderful opportunity. It is always a privilege to share my work alongside so many talented Wisconsin artists. The exhibition will be on view August 27 through October 31, 2026 , at ArtStart Galleries in Rhinelander,...

  Three years ago, I planted Claret lilies in my garden. After waiting so long, I had convinced myself the squirrels had claimed the bulbs, and that I would never see them bloom. Then, a couple of weeks ago, I walked out my front door, and there they were in all their glory—a beautiful surprise waiting for me. Aren't they just gorgeous? Nature has a wonderful way of reminding us that not everything unfolds in our time. Sometimes, the most beautiful gifts are simply waiting for the right moment to appear.

  Featured work:  003 Stories Series Every time I cross paths with another person, be they someone I know or a stranger, like this past weekend during the Northwoods Art Tour, where many art lovers visited my studio to reflect on the treasures art gives, I approach them, take a deep breath, and try to embrace their spirit. I trust there will be a wonderful shared exchange of energy that art always brings. I just trust that art will do that. Thank you to everyone who visited my studio during the Northwoods Art Tour. Whether we shared a conversation, reflected quietly together, or simply crossed paths for a brief moment, each encounter became part of the invisible thread that art weaves between us. I am deeply grateful for your openness, your curiosity, and your willingness to step into my creative world. It is through these shared moments that art continues to remind me of our connection to one another, and for that, I thank you.

  I’m grateful and honored to share that my painting Ringmaster’s Coat has been accepted into the Studio Texas International Online Competition 2026. The real, the imagined, and freedom continue to shape my work, and Ringmaster’s Coat reflects that ongoing exploration of identity, transformation, and the stories we choose to tell. I’m honored to have this piece included alongside the work of artists from around the world in this international online exhibition. My sincere thanks to Studio Texas and the jurors for this meaningful opportunity. I hope you'll take a moment to explore the exhibition and discover the wonderful variety of work on display. View the exhibition here: Studio Texas International Online Competition 2026 💛 Thank you, as always, for supporting my work and sharing in this journey.

  Featured image: Birthday Cake My half birthday was on July 21. I am hoping that the next six months, and the years that will follow, will bring no fear, no worries, no hatred, no hesitation—just love, just wonder, and the sheer joy of exploration and discovery. Of course, I have always had that dream, but as I move closer to having fewer days on earth, I want to think of those days as treasures, as days of always finding …………………. God's grace, beauty, and love, and walking away from everything that isn't that. I just read something that says what I am trying to say so beautifully. Calling myself an "artist" is not something I am comfortable with lately. It feels like a judgment call that I prefer those who view my work to make. For convenience, I call myself an artist, but, you know, for me it is either a "huge" word that carries a lot of mystery and wonderful meaning, or a very small word that has lost all its meaning. Lately, I don't know which one fo...

  Featured image: Mom's Jitterbug Mom’s Jitterbugs are blooming this year, and they were glistening and sparkling with diamonds from the morning dew. The Jitterbugs don’t seem to bloom every year. I don’t know why. They are yellow-brown irises. I really don’t know why they have the name Jitterbug, but it certainly is a fun name. I understand that when I first looked them up, I learned there is an orchid that looks quite a bit like Mom’s iris called the Mendenhall. Now that I have seen it, perhaps it would be fun to try and raise this orchid just to have this memory of my mom around all year. I used to raise orchids, but they kind of got out of hand. I had about 20 of them growing, and just watering them was a full-time job. But then I digress from the original story of the Jitterbug. Anyway, as I was having coffee this morning and looking over the gardens and wondering which flower would be the first to bloom and show color this spring, there was Mom’s Jitterbug. I was so delighted...

  Featured image: Little Bit of Sunshine There is a single patch of sun in the middle of the lawn. The lawn has dewdrops that sparkle. The grass is quite long. It should have been mowed yesterday, but it wasn’t. Oh well. I went to the farmers market yesterday, the first time in a long time. It was fun. I got some maple syrup, nice-smelling soap, and some exotic mushrooms. And I talked to some very nice folks. I think that was my favorite part. The mushrooms had fun names, like Lion’s Mane, which I bought to go with a dinner of eggs and bagels. I also bought the bagels from the vendor next to the mushroom vendor. It was a great morning, and I didn’t get home until four that afternoon because I also went antiquing! Of course.

  Featured image: Black Feather "I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn't say any other way." — Georgia O'Keeffe

  Featured image: It's A Beautiful Morning Brilliant lime-green oak leaves Drooping So young, yet So new Brilliant This morning They weren’t there Yesterday The woods Are a nursery Of different Baby greens

  I’m grateful and honored to share that my painting Roots II has been accepted into TREE II: Breath of Humanity , an online exhibition presented by Verum Ultimum Art Gallery. Trees have always held a special place in my imagination. Nature has been my greatest teacher, and I’m continually inspired by the quiet strength of trees—their deep roots, their resilience, and their constant reaching toward the light. They remind us that growth begins beneath the surface and that what sustains us is often unseen. In Roots II , I wanted to reflect on those hidden connections that nourish and anchor us, while reminding us that growth is both an inward and outward journey. I’m honored to have this work included in an exhibition celebrating the many ways trees symbolize life, spirit, connection, and renewal. Thank you to Verum Ultimum Art Gallery for this meaningful opportunity and for bringing together artists from around the world to explore such a timeless theme. The online exhibition is no...

    Featured image:   Fences “FREEDOM lies just beyond the fences we build around ourselves.”  James Nathan Muir

  Featured image: Coffee in the Rain It’s raining this morning, and I hear the rain on the umbrella. Such small things, such gentle music. Critters are sleeping this morning. Russian irises are beginning to bloom, and the peonies are showing signs of pink and are ready to bloom. Love the colors.

  Featured image: Hummer VI The pine tree shoots are almost 8" A different color green Lilies in the garden blooming Lilacs are blooming All this color overwhelms. The peonies need pinning back. They are about to burst. Little chipmunks are stuffing whirligigs into their cheeks, which are exploding. In goes another one. Amazing. The things that you notice sitting still The only thing moving is your pen. A hummer buzzed me. So still.

  Featured image: Sculpture - Wings Have you ever just thought about the air? I know I haven’t. It’s just there. It’s invisible. Yet, if you really think about it, it is so important. Things like air just pop into my head sometimes—like this morning. Without air, birds couldn’t fly. Their wings would be useless. Birds could not take flight. So what’s the use of wanting to be able to fly if there were no air? You have to have faith to take that first step from the nest, spread your wings, and fly. It takes courage. There is nothing there—just air!!! After all, if I stepped off the top of a flight of stairs and spread my arms out, I certainly wouldn’t fly like a bird. Gosh darn.

  Featured image: The Real and The Imagined One of the things I really love about being an artist is that I can create a space that exists just beyond a fixed reality. I can experience life, see life differently. Some people cannot accept “differently,” but then there are those who do—those who move toward this different reality. I can feel them when they visit the studio—the minute they walk through the door and their eyes light up. And besides asking where the bathroom is, they ask questions right away. “How did you…?” And it doesn’t stop until they walk out the door. It’s the imagination that triggers that first question.

Featured image: Daffodils In A Vase with Yellow Stripes The waiting for that first drop of color to appear in the gardens this year has ended. Oh, not the ones I planted, like the marigolds and the impatiens, but the ones that sprout up from the earth. Once the color that rises from the earth appears, then I know that summer has arrived. Just like when I shed my socks, paint my toes red, and put on sandals, then I know summer has arrived. So it has happened. The daffodils have bloomed, the Russian irises are almost here, my mom’s irises are here, and my socks are gone for the season. Yea!!!!

  Featured image: Roller Coaster Ride Have We Become Nothing More Than Wind-Up Toys? I have been thinking about this idea for some time now, ever since I started doing 3-D work about this time last year. This idea has become something special, an idea that has been ruminating in my head for over a year, ever since I began gathering antique wind-up toys. I am naturally afraid to start it, though, because the idea is soooo big. I think I might have already painted it, and it has been in my head for over 15 years. The work I did a long time ago called Roller Coaster Ride was red and very, very big. Some of you have seen it, and some of you haven’t. I was saving it for so long—not knowing why—but I sold it last year to a very, very special couple, and we helped them hang it. When I saw where it was hung, I knew the minute we hung it that it belonged there, in their lovely home, with all their other wonderfully collected art. I knew I had made the right decision to sell it. But now—can...

  Featured image: Hawk III I’m honored and grateful to share that my painting Hawk III has been accepted into the San Diego Watercolor Society’s 46th International Exhibition. This year’s exhibition received 671 entries from 345 artists representing 20 countries and 35 states. From this remarkable field of work, juror Ana Laura Salazar selected just 105 paintings for inclusion. I’m deeply honored that Hawk III will be among them. For as long as I can remember, birds have found their way into my work. Nature has always been my greatest teacher, and the hawk’s soaring perspective reminds us to rise above the immediate and see with greater clarity. In Hawk III , I wanted to capture not only the beauty and power of this remarkable bird, but also the spirit it represents—the courage to rise above challenges and trust one's vision. Thank you to juror Ana Laura Salazar, the San Diego Watercolor Society, and everyone involved in organizing this exceptional international exhibition. I’m g...

Featured image: Thrush II I find that my connection to birds gives me the feeling I need to imagine and understand what the air is like that allows birds to fly, but doesn’t allow me to fly except in my imagination. The idea that they travel so far and can stir my imagination through something invisible called air—AIR. This air is magical, mystical, and symbolic for me when I think about it, because I can never really see it, but I know it is there. Birds can take flight in it at any time. Take flight into my mystical, magical space. Science can, at times, make it visible to me—but it is not the same. Not the same as a bird spreading its wings and taking off and flying. I can’t spread my arms and take off into the air. It just can’t happen. Dragons used to. Well, they tell me they used to be able to. We don’t see dragons anymore. Do they only happen in our imagination now? Gosh, I need to close my eyes and click my ruby slippers together twice and ask to go home.

Featured image: Sunrise in the Morning at the Lake For some reason, I woke up earlier than usual this morning and looked across the lake and saw the lovely, wonderful orange, pink, and yellow sunrise glowing just everywhere. I mean everywhere, just everywhere. I couldn’t stand it. I just had to get up, make coffee, and go to the other side of the house and watch the sun rise through the trees in the woods. What is it about starting the day with a cup of coffee and watching the sun rise? It just fills your heart and soul until it is about to burst. And you try to put some of these wonderful sensations in your treasure box to save them for a rainy day, and there just isn’t enough room. Gosh. Memories. Happy memories. Written down, I rarely get beyond them—little fragments from here and there. One that always comes to mind is the last day of a canoeing trip. We got up quickly and cleaned up the tent, rolled up our sleeping bags, made coffee, and, with mugs in hand, walked up the hill. We ...

  Featured image:  Daffodils In A Vase with Yellow Stripes I cut some daffodils from my garden yesterday and put them in a vase. This really is one of the first years I have been able to do that. Usually, the deer get them first. They look so cute on my kitchen windowsill in a tall vase with yellow stripes. It brings a smile to my face just writing about them. I think daffodils are supposed to do that, aren’t they? “She turned to the sunlight And shook her yellow head, And whispered to her neighbor: ‘Winter is dead.’” — A.A. Milne, When We Were Very Young If one pleasure is worth a thousand daffodils, then one is too few. — Wordsworth

  Featured image: Straight from the Heart “I cannot expect even my own art to provide all the answers—only to hope it keeps asking the right questions.” — Wassily Kandinsky

Featured image: Intersections II We seem to be slowly moving into summer. This year I would describe summer's arrival as a slow, quiet slide. Even the blackbirds are quiet. And I am gently moving back into mark-making. I have a new way of creating, and it is triggering new thinking, which is always wonderful. It’s the weaving in my work that seems to be triggering ideas. Even though my weaving isn’t the kind of weaving that all blends, one color into another, as though each thread has a place, rather each thread clings to its neighbor and finds comfort, even though they are not the same. The weaving may appear chaotic and abstract, but it is not, for each thread has a purpose and a connection to whatever is next to it. The connection is the glue that holds the weaving together. For me, it is the invisible divine that connects. I have given up trying to see the divine and trying to describe what I cannot see. But I can feel it. Most of us can feel it and, like myself, can’t put the ...

  Featured image: Nature's Truth “…and then, I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough?” — Vincent van Gogh

  Featured image: Study of Rose Breasted Woodpecker The woodpecker keeps tap tap tapping. Listening to the rat-a-tat-tat in the distance and the gentle chirp close by, it’s nice to have my coffee outside once again and listen to the woods waking up in the morning. Green stubbles are sprouting in the gardens, bringing such joy. The deer didn’t get my daffodils this year, and specks of yellow are sprinkled about the garden borders. Everything will sprout up quickly, and soon those swelling buds will shed their soft shells, and the woods will be filled with luscious spring greens and their transparent colors will be everywhere. Every critter seems to be pairing up. The woodpecker keeps tap tap tapping.

  Featured image: Imagination “In art, the hand can never execute anything higher than the heart can imagine.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

  Featured image: It's A Beautiful Morning Isn’t it glorious watching and listening to spring arrive, not only in our hearts but also in actually watching Mother Earth come alive. Wonderful, wonderful Mother Earth. Red buds, like the flowers that come first before the leaves on the oak trees. Spring green ferns uncurling, stretching like a small baby waking from a nap. Birch trees adding that lime green that can’t be called anything but lime green, so translucent with zigzag edges. All things in the woods are dancing with the gentle breeze and basking in the warmth of the spring sun and blue, blue sky. Isn’t it glorious watching and listening to spring arrive.

  Featured image: Spot of Red Freedom comes when you adapt to change. It begins by getting used to the very idea of change. Change is discovery. Change is growth. Change is exciting when you release the past and embrace whatever comes your way.” — Peggy Magovern

  Featured image: Celebrate Innovation "Art is never finished, only abandoned" - Leonardo da Vinci

  Featured image: Your Inner Compass How do we measure our soul? Is it with a tape measure, a scale, weights? How do we measure our soul? The Bible, the Koran, other holy books? How do we measure right from wrong—good and bad? How do we measure our soul? We can’t see our soul to measure it. And we really don’t know what our soul is—or what it looks like—do we? Just what is a soul? For me… my soul is the glue that holds me together… it is my spirit. “Now I lay me down to sleep; I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” Those were the words from the first prayer I ever learned to pray to God when my mom and dad tucked me in at night. I learned the word soul even before I understood what it meant. What is my soul? It is the glue that holds me together. It is the precious thing that is just mine. Can it be measured? Mine can’t. AI’s overview states: “The soul is generally defined as the immaterial essence, consciousness, or an...

  Featured image: At Peace “A work of art is a declaration of freedom.” — Oskar Schlemmer

  Featured image: Trusing Her “I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn’t say any other way—things I had no words for.” — Georgia O’Keeffe

  Featured image: Wings To Be Yourself Who I wish to be: An artist. I work hard. I read. I listen. I think. I observe. I trust myself. But does that make me who I wish to be? An artist. I imagine. An artist, for me, sees the invisible, feels the intangible, achieves the impossible, and most importantly, creates originals. But again, I ask myself: Am I that? That which I imagine?

  Featured image: Intersections II “Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.” — Thomas Merton

  Happy Mother’s Day 💛 Nature has always reminded me of the quiet strength found in motherhood — nurturing, resilient, patient, and endlessly giving. Like the returning seasons or the steady wings of birds in flight, mothers shape the world in ways both gentle and profound. Today I’m thinking with gratitude of all the mothers, grandmothers, artists, caretakers, and women whose love leaves lasting traces in our lives. Wishing you a day filled with beauty, reflection, and love.

Featured image: The Little Green Bird “Use what talents you possess: the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best.” — Henry Van Dyke

    Featured image:   Purple Iris purple flower – this talisman holds it all a moment a glance this amulet  of passion  and mystery

Featured image: Hummer V  “I realized that if I had to choose, I would rather have birds than airplanes.” — Charles Lindbergh