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With my relatively recent realizations about guardrails and the burn-out perils of not heeding them, I’ve been exploring more notions of space and where my most creative moments happen. I don’t mean simply the physical space of my studio but rather those annoyingly numbered and fast progressing ones in my calendar app. I’ve been dreaming…
My son loved bowling when he was young, but like most children, he wasn’t thrilled with achieving gutterball after gutterball. Fortunately, there were guardrails. As if by magic, the guardrails would slide up alongside the lane, ensuring Skyler’s kid-weight ball would bank, bounce, and roll its way to the end-goal, nearly always managing to knock…
I’ve come to realize that even in the midst of continuing Groundhog Day, time is finite. If I’m lucky enough for my maternal genes to call the shots, I’m only a a decade or so past life’s halfway mark. If my paternal genes are dominant, I’m already on borrowed time. For light summer reading [she…
I’ve long known that all of my most successful pieces go through an ugly stage. What seems like a great idea, progresses nicely, and then suddenly, somewhere along the way, I look at it and wonder… …what the hell I was thinking? With what feels like a boundless amount of time invested in creating my…
In 2017 we lucked into an old masters drawing exhibit at the National Portrait Gallery on our trip to London. After seeing the incredible exhibit of Raphael’s drawings at the Ashmolean in Oxford, I was a little giddy at what else I might see. As my eyes adjusted to the dark blue walls and dim…