A painting “in progress” in my studio.

Today is Wednesday, March 18, 2020 and it’s the third “official” day of sheltering in place. We’ve all been sick before, we’ve all had to stay home and rest and recover, I’ve even lived through various “hurrications” and “the Great Flood” in Baton Rouge, hanging tight is nothing new. But it’s different now. Generally there’s been a light at the end of the tunnel. We may feel pretty shitty, but we know we’re going to turn the corner. I hear that we may be living like this until August. Okay, what changes in August? What is the light that I can look toward?

Ten days ago I went to an art opening. There was a nice crowd there, met some friends and went out for a couple beers after the event. At the time it felt a little weird to be out. The WHO had not quite declared the pandemic, but we all knew it was serious and the “P” word was coming. It’s never felt like a risk before to be out with friends. The concern in my head had not yet reconciled with the logical next steps, reality had not set in. It was like we were all on the Titanic, we hit the iceberg, but were still all having dinner and dancing. No one saw the water coming in yet.

Tomorrow morning my husband Phil and I will be heading out to Boston to pick up our son Ben. He is devastated about leaving school mid-semester. He is broken that he couldn’t even have a proper goodbye with his friends. Our son Leo is missing out on his high school experience and his amazing theater trip to NYC. Nothing is normal. I know we are all hurting for our children and what they are all losing. We are really fighting a war right now, a biological war. The Novel coronavirus is a terrorist and we are both it’s weapon and it’s victim.

Wrapping my head around all of this, what it’s going to mean for our country, our world, and for me as a mom/wife/artist. We’ve all had the rug pulled out from under us and it really sucks. I send out my love and support for the, “essential employees,” working in the medical field, grocery stores, pharmacies, shipping companies, Amazon employees, etc… all of you who are keeping us afloat with the things we need. I’m terrified of anyone getting sick and needing hospitalization right now. Our resources are limited and are being strained. We are all going to know someone (maybe ourselves) who will be sickened with COVID-19 and the consequences could certainly be dire.

Stay safe and please stay home if you can!
Peace and love

2018 and 19 were busy years for me! In August of 2018 we made our home in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, setting up my studio in Lawrenceville. I was so energized by my trip to Giverny, France in the summer of 2018, and got busy creating new paintings around the subject of water lilies from Monet’s water gardens. In 2019 I went back to France and spent a week painting and photographing around Monet’s lily pond. I currently have an exhibit of this work at Duane Reed Gallery. The exhibit features my paintings along with the ceramic artwork of Perry Haas. The exhibition runs from December 13, 2019 through January 25, 2020. Here is an interview that I did with an introduction from Duane Reed.

In July of 2018 I returned to Giverny, France and the home of a beloved artist, Claude Monet. It had been 28 years since my last visit, the time when I stepped over the barrier, sat down on the grass next to the pond, and painted the legendary waterlilies. I didn’t ask permission, I just took out my watercolors and got to work. Last summer, I came a bit more prepared, which was both good and bad. I had my French easel, paint, brushes, and a backpack with my Nikon camera and lenses. Lo and behold I was told I was not allowed to paint during normal business hours, too many people. I was informed that the Foundation had special artist hours from 6pm-8pm, but those must be reserved. The lady at the ticket counter looked into her book and informed me of what I already knew, I did not have a reservation. I had been studying French since 2012 and it had gotten pretty good by this point. The security guard told me, in French, that I should call the Foundation and see what they could do. I did, and to my great fortune, they granted me a reservation for that evening.

I spent that morning photographing for hours the splendor of the waterlilies, then, at 6:00pm I returned to Fondation Claude Monet with just my painting supplies. I can’t even begin to describe the joy I felt. I was the only artist there that evening during artist hours. It was just me and all that beauty (and, well, the grounds person). I spent the next two hours of blissful solitude painting and feeling the resonance of the spirit of Monet.

As I have been working on this new subject/series, I have let the surface of the water, the texture of the waterlilies and the movement of light be my guide. My painting technique has fluctuated a bit as the subject has demanded of me. The natural light, as always, tells the story.

Many thanks to the Fondation for making this dream possible for artists. To open their doors after hours and allow artists the space to work is such an incredible gift. I am overwhelmed with gratitude.