Reproductions
1) Metal: aluminum with backing and attached wire for hanging.
2) Stretched Canvas: available in 0.75" (standard) or 1.5" (gallery) depths.
3) Archival Paper
Orphaned Thoughts Find Voice
Morning light paints the rock face in soft oranges while the river hums its ancient song. My body relearns how to be quiet. Old thoughts stir, speaking in ways I had forgotten to hear.
Rising Green and Stone
The hillside rises toward stone, covered in fresh growth. Color spreads across the ground in broad patches. The mountains hold above, steady against the sky. The land is newly awake.
1st place: PleinAir Magazine Salon April 2026, Acrylic and Gouache Plein Air Category
Long in the Leafy Embrace
A fallen trunk crosses the creek in the shelter of the trees. Water slips around the stones below, carrying the cool colors of sky and leaves. Light filters down through the canopy in soft flashes of yellow. The woods hold the quiet rhythm of the stream.
In the Kindness of the Morning
Morning light filters through the canopy, cradling the stream in warmth. The water slips past, carrying the quiet of the forest floor. Thick trees lean over the banks to shield the shallows, painting the surface in lavender and gold. As the current glides over hidden stones, the day breathes deeply. Title by poet Mary Oliver
Of Dawn the Ancestor
The air cools in response to the coming storm. Gray shadows sweep across the meadows as clouds step off the high ridges. A heavy sky leans down to touch the rolling grassland. Here, the patient prairie waits for the rain. Title by poet Emily Dickinson
The Music of Water Over Stone
The steep canyon walls hold the morning shade as summer heat climbs the rim. Below, the river sings. Its ancient melody echoes off stone walls, setting the rhythm of the canyon. The boulders send bright spray into the air in chords of turquoise and sienna.
Attention is the Beginning of Devotion
The high basin is filled with cool, clear light. Silvered trunks of old trees rest in the shallows, smoothed by long years of sun and snow. Light skips across the surface, catching the worn ridges of the wood. The only sound is the cold, silver breath of the high country. Title by poet Mary Oliver
Gold Slips Through the Field
The hillside glows against the dark lake in the low sun. Shadows stretch across the meadow, turning the water to iron and silver. The wind is sharp, yet the light remains warm and kind against the coming evening as the heart settles.
The High Song of the Land
A restless wind sweeps the valley, blurring the wildflowers and the high peaks. The sky shifts in ragged chords of blue and white, echoing the rugged texture of the stone below. Here, the landscape finds its voice, rising in a melody that fills the wide, open air.
Wading into the Wild Music of the Waterthrush
The creek drops through the stones, twisting and breaking as it goes. Its melody mingles with the bright song of the birds in the leaves. Water and song dance together through the shade. Title by Mary Oliver
Surrounded by Color
The creek turns between dense autumn growth. Trees crowd the banks, their color moving into the water. Light breaks across the surface and reforms downstream. The current moves it on.
Evergreen Paths to Streams Unseen
Game paths wind through the heavy timber, leading toward the melody of a mountain stream. Cool air rises from the water, smelling of crushed needles and wet stone. The land loses its sharp edges as the light filters through the canopy. Spirit finds footing in the shallow rocks.
Red Stone and Shadow
The canyon walls rise in layers of ancient heat and red stone. Shadows fall into deep crevices where small greens find a place to hide and grow. The light stays on the high rim and the world waits for the afternoon’s turn toward the evening.
Straw and Sky
The prairie stretches toward the horizon, wearing a coat of sun-drenched gold. Resilient trees anchor the wide warmth of the field against a sprawling blue sky. Far away, the mountains hold a low, violet hum. Here, the land speaks in whispers of light.
Sunrise Performance
The canyon unfolds in gold as the morning begins its song. Trees along the rim catch the first light, burning orange above the violet shadows of the basin. Near the stream, birds join the chorus. The spirit recognizes the melody.
Morning at the Lake
This morning was gray. The sun didn't come out until I was packing up. I was able to find some colorful reflections in the water from the opposite shore.
Beneath Cobalt Skies
The high grass turns to gold as autumn moves through the valley. Orange and red leaves stand out against the deep blue of the sky. The river gathers the light and the color, moving quietly through the meadow. The world feels wide and full.
Somewhere Shining and Unexpected
A storm gathers over the high country, clouds rising in great towers. Violet and iron-grey fill the sky while distant ridges fade into blue. Sunlight breaks through in scattered bands, touching the open land below. Title by poet Mary Oliver
The Peace of Wild Things
A pale light catches the mountain grass, while deep shadows pool beneath the cooling pines. Along the creek, the world pauses, held quiet in a shimmer of violet and gold. Here, the trail ends and the spirit finds rest in the stillness. Title by poet Wendell Berry
Leaf and Stone
Golden autumn light settles across the valley as the day leans toward evening. Slender aspens stand against the open pass, their yellow leaves trembling in the thin air. A passing breeze stirs the trees, and the quiet of the ridge deepens.
Water of Laughter
Some days you need to spend near the water. My laughing children and the smiling fisherman wade up and down the creek while I paint. Tarryall Creek: past the Twin Eagles trailhead.
The Land Answers in Green
The creek is full and fast, carving its path through the warming soil of the high basin. Snow still lingers in the shadows of the peaks. Below, the land starts its slow, beautiful ascent into green. It is a quiet moment of becoming.
A Certain Kind of Waiting
The hills are beginning to shift, catching the heat of the sun in small, brilliant bursts of yellow. A few trees have turned toward the light, their leaves becoming weightless and bright. They glow against the cool shadows of the mountain as the air begins to turn. The land is starting its slow, beautiful descent into autumn.
Field Left Open to Sky
Autumn settles over the field. Grasses glow softly in the afternoon light while the trees hold their fading color. Beyond them the sky stretches without interruption. The world is quiet and the light is kind.
Three Horizons
Desert light moves across the open ground. Beyond the stone sentinels, the mountains gather. Each horizon resting on the last, extending the space. The land breathes steady and calm.
Silent Wash
Sunlight filters through the yellow canopy, warming the stones of the dry creek bed. Above, the sky is a brilliant blue, framed by the generous arch of autumn. The air is still and the honey-colored light invites a moment of quiet, patient joy.
Somewhere Shining and Unexpected, Study
18x24 Acrylic on panel
Gallery style, 1.5 inches deep with sides painted black.
Summer thunderstorms come off the mountains and fill the sky. As the threatening clouds overtake the evening color, bits of light play along the grasses as the day draws to a close. Title by Mary Oliver
Hymn of Stone
Cool light descends from the narrow ribbon of sky. The canyon walls rise ancient—layers of shadow and heat. A thread of water glimmers as it descends over the sun-struck ledges. Here, the landscape offers a patient song, inviting the soul to rest.
Enjoying the Path Wherever It Was Taking Me
Water carves a path through the thick brush, spilling over stones in a rush of light. It carries pieces of the sky and the fire of sun-lit leaves in its current. Here, the map is forgotten as the stream leads the heart deeper into the quiet woods. Title by poet Mary Oliver
With Your Name Wrapped Around Me Like a Scarf
The mountain summer turns inward as fog and a gentle rain wander between the pines. The high ridges slowly fade from view, pulled into the gray-white reach of the clouds. In this hushed space, the landscape disappears, leaving only the scent of wet needles and the cool, damp silence. Title by poet Annie Dillard
Painted by Stone and Wind
Ancient terraces step down in sun-struck layers, cradling pinyon and juniper within the stone. Desert light bathes the walls, turning shadows to violet and sage to blue. Here, the weathered land holds a radiant stillness beneath the vast sky.
Invitation to Peace
Sunlight spills into the clearing, catching the distant pines in soft, pale yellow. Below, the water moves through deep shadow. The woods are still, watching the day turn toward the evening. Everything flows as freely as the cold, blue current.
The Trees Sit Beside Me
The forest crowds the bank, leaning into the mountain stream’s quiet whisper. The old trees gather in the glen to watch, their heavy roots anchoring the light. In this ancient conversation, the whole world speaks.
The Unscripted Stream
The water dances down the canyon, drawing the sky’s brilliance into its dark current. Sunlit trees scatter color across the surface. The light shimmers along the ripples and the water continues on its way.
The Sunlight Runs Along the Hills
Sunlight wanders across the ridges, trailing warmth over the dry grass and quiet timber. mirroring the earth in long, shimmering strokes. Time slows to the pace of shifting shadow. Everything rests in a sun-drenched pause. Title by poet Paul Laurence Dunbar
The River Singing
The canyon stretches, shaking off the night as the sun crests the far wall. Below, the river finds its voice, humming a turquoise melody to the waking stone. Light spills down, chasing shadows into deep crevices. Here, the day begins with a song only the rocks remember.
The Singing Reaches of My Soul Spoke the Green
The creek runs high through the canyon. Green spreads along the banks and up the stone. Clouds open and morning light reaches the far wall. The day settles into color. Title by poet e.e. cummings
Where the Lake Holds the Sky
The lake gathers the colors of the trees along the far shore. Reflections drift across the water in shifting patches of light. Beyond them, the mountains rise dark beneath a clear sky.
Windswept Beauty
Wind speaks across the basin in long, steady breaths, stirring the wildflowers into motion. Across the valley, the mountains rise in weathered slopes. The open land answers the sky in its own quiet voice.
Moments Heavy with Light and Good Luck
Golden trees flare along the lake’s edge beneath a wide autumn sky. Blue water gathers their light while distant mountains settle into shadow. For a moment the whole landscape glows, inviting the heart to step further in. Title by poet Mary Oliver
Morning Vigil
The mountains wait for the first light to catch the high walls. Orange color spills across the stone as the sun breaks over the ridge. In the growing warmth, the world feels wide and new again.
A Few Wild Poems
Sunlight moves across the hill, turning the grasses into a shifting sea of color. The field is alive with small, busy movements as the wind pulls at the stems. It is a quiet, restless beauty. Title by poet Annie Dillard.
Borrowed Sky
The creek widens and slows, holding the afternoon sky in a steady embrace. Blue stretches across the water, broken only by a few quiet stones. The river breathes in a slow, saturated silence.
Old Light Held in Soil and Leaf
Following the creek along the mountain’s back route, afternoon sun spills across the ridges, casting long shadows through the grass. In the quiet ascent, the land seems to breathe in the day’s final light as golden hour settles into the deepening woods. Title by poet Wendell Berry.
Where the River Sings
14x11 Acrylic on panel
3" black wooden frame.
Late afternoon light settles quietly over the moving stream. The current pulls at the bank, carving a path through the stones. Cold spray carries the scent of pine and wet earth. Here, the land offers a patient reminder of what it means to belong.
Evening Walk
During my evening walk, Colorado was showing off a bit. The sky was alight. The mountains were purple. You could just make out blues and purples in the shadows of the prairie grasses.
Embracing Joy
The creek spreads wide over flat stone, shallow and clear. Color gathers in the current, slipping across the shallows. Each step sends light in new directions. It is a place of constant, shifting light and simple, unhurried joy.
Septembering Arms of the Year Extend
Wild grasses fill the field with shifting color and movement. Greens, golds, and rust tones mingle together in the late-season light. A light breeze passes through, setting the whole surface of the meadow in motion. The land carries the slow warmth of autumn. Title by e.e. cummings