I paint because I feel a need to preserve the glimpses of nature’s art that confront me daily as I go about living: a dramatic shaded bouquet, seascape, a puzzle of architecture, dance of light and shadow; and sometimes the simplest glimpse of still life: an angled doorway or lace curtain floating in the breeze. The moment not captured by photograph or painting may be forever lost. So I travel with my camera, taking snapshots and collecting them as inspiration for paintings.

I have a passion to paint the beach, and the cottages lining the roads leading to it. I am challenged to get the sand and the water to feel and look real with the myriad brush strokes and colors required to modestly imitate nature.

I am also inspired by the one hundred year old Victorian home I live in, with its high ceilings, huge windows and brilliant light. The gardens look more beautiful each year, with the learning curve of my skills, and provide an infinite source of subjects to paint.

Low light scenes are fascinating me most recently. Stillness that can be felt at dawn or twilight when the world is waking or powering down. There is an awe to it, and the fact of color that conflicts with the brain: the snow is blue, the road is pink. I have a new camera that is especially talented at capturing low light images, no flash. Now the barn with the antique light and snowy wreath can be photographed, studied and painted in the studio.

I have also found that painting provides nourishment and calm respite to my life as a balance to my work as an art psychotherapist in private practice. I cherish my work and I love my play.