Animal portraits! Now available as Fine Art Giclee Prints! Yay!!

These beautiful archival quality giclee prints are now available in my etsy shop! They are 8x10 with a 1" border on 10x12 somerset velvet paper. If you would like one of the animal portraits not listed, or you would like to have it printed larger or smaller, just send me a message on etsy and we'll make it happen!

 

Gluten Free Chocolate Peanut Butter Brownie Cookies. You might want to try these...

These are super easy. You should make them. Here is how:

Preheat oven to 350.
Line baking sheet with parchment paper.

Put the following ingredients in a bowl (I use a KitchenAid stand mixer with the whisk attachment (lucky me, Thanks Aunt Cindy!), you could use an electric mixer.

1 Cup creamy all natural peanut butter
1 Cup Maple Syrup. Grade B if you can get it...
2 Eggs
1/4 Cup dark cocoa powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp Vanilla Extract

Mix it all together. WHIP it. (real good). Keep whipping. Scrape the bowl down. Whip it again. Now you have a pretty wet cookie dough. Drop by the tablespoon onto baking sheet about 2 inches apart. Sprinkle with sea salt if you wish.

Bake for 10 minutes.
Rest on pan for about 1 minute and transfer to cooling rack.
Be amazed.

I'm thinking this could translate well into little cakes....mmmmm. cake.

New paintings headed to Johnson Public House later this week!

FINALLY! New work will be hung later this week at the amazing Johnson Public House in Madison! All work is for sale!

I realize that making art makes me VERY happy. I love the creative process. I love the time spent in my studio (extra bedroom/office/storage/my son doesn't have a room because mom needs a studio) tackling a white piece of paper. Arguing with myself. Getting frustrated and then that feeling of accomplishment. I MADE that! And the making is allowing my heart to swell!

I hope that my work will make others happy. When you purchase art, you are supporting happiness. You are encouraging happiness! We all need that. More happy people. We all know this is a crazy messed up world. I'm more broke now than I've ever been. Student loan debt, overdue bills, money borrowed. There are days where it can all seem to suffocate the creative drive. Please know that in purchasing art, you are encouraging happiness! This goes for any handmade item you may be pondering.

We have all grown SO accustomed to CHEAP mass produced everything, that we automatically question the price tag. How long did it take you to make that? I get that question a lot, and while I do agree that it is important for makers to know these details, does it really matter? How long did it take me? It took me 36 years. It took me a lot of trial and error, bad decisions, grand epiphanies, two college degrees, lots of gas money, tubes of paint and lots of time behind the espresso machine making lattes.

The holidays are approaching fast. That time of year when we want to give something special to those we love. Please consider purchasing from a local artist or craftsman. Instead of helping the profits of some huge corporation, you will be helping someone pay the mortgage. It's really that simple. 

One-of-a-kind handmade cards in my etsy shop

I went to art school. Twice. I also REALLY LOVE to paint and print on PAPER. I also have been known (in the past) to like to work BIG. These simple facts about me mean that I have been lugging around a LOT of rolled up paintings over the years. Ones that are just too big to put on my own walls, and well...in my opinion, not worth hanging on any one else's walls! (oh some of you have been so lucky! You know who you are....and I'm grateful for your wall space...)

Anyway. For a while I have been thinking about turning these paintings into handmade cards and that is exactly what I have finally gotten around to doing! I just mentioned that I LOVE paper. And oh boy, these cards feel great. They are either on heavy watercolor paper, or the delicious thick archival printmaking paper that soaks in the gesso and acrylic and oils like a dream. Making these have reminded me of making the little Wright Brothers Books that I made in 2012. I'm using the same vintage typing paper (from my grandfather's furniture store) on the inside and there is a very special quality that this adds to the card. It's a tactile experience and one that is difficult to express in photographs. Every card is one-of-a-kind. The text is snipped from vintage magazines and encyclopedias. 

In my etsy shop I am offering the service of typing up a personal note from you! This can be anything you want...from a simple Happy Birthday, a lengthy letter, a favorite poem or lyrics to a song or all of the above!...whatever you feel would make the card even more personal! I'd *love* to help you make that exchange! Or of course you can simply purchase a blank card and do the personalizing yourself! Either way, I think these cards make a statement on their own. They come with a kraft paper envelope and wrapped in an archival plastic sleeve. 

Last Monday morning...

Last Monday morning was wet and cold for the first week in August. It was raining lightly and felt more like October. I drove Oscar to daycare, a beautiful curvy drive through the country that I cherish. I'm a country girl. Those roads are my morning meditation. The last stretch of my route is on Highway 14 South, an old two lane highway that curves its way through farmland, a busy commuter route; speeding cars, semi trucks, huge farm tractors. It's not unusual to come across a crash, part of the highway closed, re-routed. I get to work at the cafe on those mornings and there is chatter about the wreck on 14 and we all shake our heads...I was so close...just seconds away, it could have been me.

It happens in a flash. Those who have experienced it know this. How it happens so fast and yet while its happening, time practically stops. Time is very clearly an illusion. I was just coming around a curve and I hit the gravel on the side of the road just a little. The next thing I know I'm spinning like I'm on ice. I don't know how many circles I did over the road. Apparently I hit a small pole before sliding into and turning around in a deep ditch across the street from what looked like an abandoned body shop. My car was facing the wrong way. In that moment, when I'm spinning I just remember being very aware of the time and very simply thinking this is happening. Here we go. And then my car stopped and I shut it off and I sat there. I gathered the contents of my purse that landed in the backseat. I grabbed my umbrella and hiked up to stand under the awning of the old building to try and stay dry.

An old man came out of the shop. He was small, wore a baseball cap, an old flannel and some amazing leather boots that are probably older than me. I thought the place was empty, so his presence surprised me. He asked if I was okay. I think he tried talking to me, but he couldn't hear and I was pretty speechless. Everything about him reminded me of my dad, if my dad had lived to be in his late 70's. 

When something like that happens we always think it could have been worse. It's true. It could have been so much worse. For those few seconds, during rush hour on a rainy Monday morning, there were no cars in front or in back of me. And, of course, Oscar was safely at daycare. The only thing that got lost in this was my car. I'm fine. I'm perfectly fine. 

I live in an amazing community. I was quickly embraced by those that love me and I'm still feeling that embrace. We take care of each other and that's a beautiful thing. My small crash was nothing compared to others stories I've heard. But it doesn't leave you any less shaken. What if that, what if this.

Those moments when we feel stripped down, the raw sweetness of life is exposed in all its messy metaphors and poetry. We are quickly reminded of how amazing this life is. The heart beat. The embrace. We reach out for help and we reach out to let others know we are okay.

Right now it’s Saturday night and Oscar is away with his daddy on a camping trip. I’m home, drinking a glass of wine, writing, listening to the sounds of the birds, dogs and kids on my street. The sun is beginning to set behind the houses. The ice cream truck drives through the neighborhood.

New inspiration

As you may have noticed, I'm a little all over the place lately. First it was the lotion, and now it's earrings. Those two things have started because I made them for myself first. Which makes me wonder if I've ever done a painting for myself. As a gift. Hmmm..probably not. I should give that a shot...might be enlightening!

I'm having a LOT of fun making these earrings. I've had more free time lately to work on creative things and that alone is good for the soul. Everyone needs that I think. Life is so amazing and complicating and messy and I'm feeling a little delirious from it all. Making something with your hands, sitting down at a table with a nice light. Listening to music. Just being in the moment, concentrating on the task at hand. Yeah. It's good stuff. My very talented friend Anne shared this poem with me a few years ago and it's come in handy quite a bit in those few years.

For the Artist at the Start of Day 

May morning be astir with the harvest of night;

Your mind quickening to the eros of a new question,

Your eyes seduced by some unintended glimpse

That cut right through the surface to a source.

 May this be a morning of innocent beginning,

When the gift within you slips clear

Of the sticky web of the personal

With its hurt and its hauntings,

And fixed fortress corners

A Morning when you become a pure vessel

For what wants to ascend from silence,

 May your imagination know

The grace of perfect danger,

 To reach beyond imitation,

And the wheel of repetition,

 Deep into the call of all

The unfinished and unsolved

Until the veil of the unknown yields

And something original begins

To stir toward your senses

And grow stronger in your heart

 In order to come to birth

In a clean line of form,

That claims from time

A rhythm not yet heard,

That calls space to

A different shape.

 May it be its own force field

And dwell uniquely

Between the heart and the light

To surprise the hungry eye

By how deftly it fits

About its secret loss.

John O'Donohue 

Just a tiny reflection

Oh hellooooooo little blog of mine! It's SUMMER! The garden is full and tonight the sky is lit up by a SUPER MOON and an amazing lightening storm. Full moon's always make me think of my dad and add a thunderstorm to the mix and WOW! That really packs a punch! I know he is enjoying this somewhere out there in our insanely beautiful and mysterious universe. 

Summer is soooooo BUSY. It's comes at me so fast like a whirling dervish, hot and humid and buggy. I sit here tonight in my studio listening to the deep rolling thunder and enjoying the cool breeze through the open windows.

Robert Wilkinson of Aquarius Papers says of this moon, "you can bet that a) whatever spontaneously comes forth will be quite natural, and b) many will have to 'discard the past', or 'stand at the grave' of something gone so that it opens the door to a life renewal..."

Amen to that! Now if I can truly stop trying to "push the river" and just flow along in its illuminated currents, trusting that the flow is everything.

Slow Food is Good Food!

This new print will be in my shop soon! I hope you are as excited as I am!

Cups of tea, Spring re-newel and The Cheshire Cat

Spring is finally here in Wisconsin. After such a long winter I don't even mind the cold. It's raining and there are thunderstorms and the grass is turning green. I hear whispers of possible snow on Friday...but I don't care. I'm not going to let that make me grumpy. The birds are chirping. They are optimists and I'll stick with them on this one.

Starting next week I will have my giclee prints on display at the wonderful Macha Tea House on Monroe Street in Madison. If you are in the area, please stop in for a pot of tea and some amazing food.

Spring is a great season for drinking tea. I enjoyed 4 pots of tea today. Let it rain all day and let me drink my tea. Re-birth, Re-newel, sewing seeds, all the amazing metaphors of Spring give us reasons to celebrate. The energy of thunderstorms, the electricity, the BOOM!

I dreamt of Uncle Fred a few weeks ago. He had his long white hair and beard, but his body was much younger. He gave me one of his amazing hugs and we both cried. I woke myself up crying. It was definitely a dream of letting go. I had another dream that my Uncle Larry, who passed away 16 years ago, suddenly came back to life. A dream of re-newel.

Oscar's Great Grandma Floeter passed away in March this year. She was an amazing, intelligent and generous woman. We let go, we embrace. We search for balance in a world of chaos. We seek quiet in a world of constant chatter. We live and we die.

This Spring I am planning a trip down south to Mattoon, where I grew up. My granddad was "Charlie the Coke-Man" and my mom's parents owned a furniture store for 50 years. Sometimes I have dreams that I'm exploring the dark familiar corners of the store. My secret hiding place wasn't in a forest, but in a 170 year old building, up-stairs, the storage room with creaky wood floors, back behind the bunk beds and recliners. Soon my mom will be selling the house her parents built in 1969 to move to warmer weather and to embrace a new adventure. My Aunt is doing the same. Friends of my mom's who I know as family, they sold their house in March, packed up their Airstream for new horizons.


"Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like." - Lao Tzu





A few weeks back I was picking Oscar up from his amazing daycare. (seriously, we are VERY lucky) He is getting in the car and talking to the cat balancing on the fence. He says "mom, it's the Cheshire cat!" We had been reading Alice in Wonderland, so I didn't think much of it. But then as we were taking off in the car, he kept telling me "mom, it's the Cheshire cat!!!" He was clearly very excited, and I'm like "yeah!" Then suddenly I see it out of the corner of my eye. He is talking about the MOON! THE MOON IS the CHESHIRE CAT!!!!! YES! OF COURSE!!!! DUH!!!!! (Can you sense my enthusiasm??! It was seriously an amazing discovery)

When we arrive at home, Oscar is super excited to get out of the car and look up at the "Cheshire Cat". We are standing at the end of our driveway looking up at the moon and we hear a little bell ringing. Ding Ding Ding, up pitter patters a little orange cat with a bell around its neck. She hugs our legs, Oscar gives her a pat on the back, and she runs off.

Magic. Pure Magic.


As for me, I know nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,
Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water,
Or stand under the trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with any one I love,
Or sleep in bed at night with any one I love,
Or watch honey bees busy around the hive of summer forenoon,
Or the wonderfulness of the sundown,
Or of stars shining so quiet and bright,
Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring...
What stranger miracles are there?  

-Walt Whitman

Mama, hold my hands and dance!

Tonight I meet myself at the writing desk with a glass of wine and a delicious chocolate walnut brownie. Honey rolls are on their first rise and in a few hours I will roll out the dough for tomorrows brunch with good friends. I haven't been here in what seems like weeks. Here, meaning the writing desk, the creative space, the studio, the mat, whatever you want to call it. The Holidays knocked me down hard and I'll admit I've been in a bit of a rut. I've been falling asleep snuggled up next to Oscar at 7:30 and waking up at Midnight only to shut off the lights and crawl back into my bed. January is feeling like the longest month in the history of the Universe. The days are long, the air is dry and I'm baking enough cookies, muffins, biscuits and brownies to feed the entire town. I, like everyone else around me, am dreaming of Spring, the bright green promising re-birth, rhubarb, muddy boots and birds chirping and celebrating the sunrise.

Last weekend I received three very big gifts; a new iPhone, a vintage Canon F-1 camera with multiple lenses and filters, and my Uncle's record album collection with well over 200 albums. As soon as I got the heavy boxes of vinyl into the house I opened the box closest to me, pulled out a record, announced the title to my mom and her husband who were visiting for the weekend. I pull out another album and I jump up with it in my hands. ACROSS THE ALLEY FROM THE ALAMO! I don't notice how dirty the album is and rush to put it on the turn table. I'm singing along while Oscar and I dance to Bob Wills Greatest Hits and my mom is explaining to Dennis my enthusiasm for the song. Out of ALL the albums in the collection, that was the second one I pulled out? It was the album that Uncle Fred played for my dad, years before I was born. It's my dad's deep voice, his slower more drawn out version of Across the alley from the Alamo that I wish I had recorded somewhere else besides my memory. When the song is over and my triumph has mellowed, I finally notice how filthy the album is. For the most part, the albums are in good shape, but they are filthy. If you knew Freddie, you are simply nodding your head. Yup. The best part about that is that every single album is properly placed in the sleeve. I remember him teaching me the proper way to put albums away, the same way he showed me how to read a book without bending the spine.

I spend the weekend with my mom and her husband, affectionately known to Oscar as Nana and Papa Dennis. Dennis picked me up some record cleaner in Madison on Saturday and I got right to work cleaning; Bob Dylan, Tom Waits, Steely Dan, Neil Young, The Beach Boys, Arlo Guthrie, CCR. Sunday morning at 7am, Oscar and I are dancing to Tom Waits, Rain Dogs. I am hit with the powerful emotion that only music and perfume can unleash. My dad and Uncle Fred would have LOVED this very moment. While I'm dancing, an image is forming quite clearly in my mind of a photograph that I took of my dad and Uncle dancing with the neighbors daughter when she was around 5 years old. Tears are in my eyes and out of nowhere Oscar asks me "Mama, hold my hands and dance!" Call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure Freddie and "Brother David" were in the room.

Prints up at JPH in Madison

My giclee prints are now available in Madison at Johnson Public House! Thanks to Ian and Gwen and Kyle for making that happen, you guys are the best!