About How It All Began

I discovered painting in 2004. It began while visiting a friend in North Carolina. I picked up a Sharpie pen and drew her cat sitting on an overstuffed chair. She handed me watercolors and as if by magic, her drab green chair became red, her white walls were covered in flowers, her tan rug became orange, and her simple lamp became purple with a beaded lampshade. I stared at my painting. It seemed to smile back at me. I was addicted.

My paintings were whimsical, bright, and happy. That year I painted at least sixty paintings, selling many to friends, and at various places in Ojai, CA that gave me room for an art show. I sold paintings at Farmer and the Cook Restaurant, Ojai Art Museum, The FireHouse, Pacific Western Bank, and The Ojai Emporium. Painting transformed me; nothing lifted my spirits like red, blue chased the demons away, green healed all dryness, yellow changed doubt into joy.

In 2008, with the housing market in crisis I needed to focus on my real estate business. Needless to say, my painting stopped. It wasn’t until the pandemic that I allowed myself to stop working. In the last two years I have become a serious painter.

During the pandemic I painted Rincon Peak, near Santa Barbara which I could see from my house. One painting called “Loneliness” won first prize in The Montecito Journal’s Visual Arts Contest, May 28, 2020. It was a painting of the mountain, the coastline, and the city which I could see from my window. Normally I would fill the painting with red-tiled roofs and houses. I waited for a week for an idea of what was needed. It seemed so empty. All of a sudden I knew it was perfect. I had painted “loneliness."

My painting “Loneliness” led to other mountain paintings. This led me to the High Sierra, where I had a cabin for forty-five years and had vacationed all my life with my family. Five of these paintings were recently in an art show at REH Gray Space Gallery, in the Funk Zone, Santa Barbara. 

Nothing resonates with my soul more than being in these mountains and painting what can and cannot be seen, yet felt.

My Constant Companion, Riley
I have had dogs for forty years or more. Riley will be my last. We are the closest; no husband, no children – it's him and me. He is a rascal, a perfect, fourteen pound watchdog. If anyone approaches he's a beast to be reckoned with. When we pass a huge dog I pick him up. The other dog owner always says, "My dog is friendly," thinking I'm afraid my little darling will be harmed. "I'm protecting your dog," I tell them, and we laugh. He was found under a parked car and taken to a kill shelter where I found him. I knew at first glance he was mine.