Reproductions
1) Metal: aluminum with attached cleats 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.
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
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.
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
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.
The Thirsty Path
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.
Stone Against the Sky
Red stone pillars rise across the desert floor while the blue Rockies tower in the distance. The skyline here feels unlike anywhere else. Ancient stone stands against an endless sky.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Facing East
The sun paints the mountains full of pinks and oranges. I'm standing on the bridge near the visitors center, facing East: Eldorado Canyon
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.
Exploring the Open Space
The open fields and stands of trees call to me. Some days, I pull the car over on the way home from wherever and wander through the tall grass. I'm so thankful for these pockets of calm in our community. Pearce Park
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
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.
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.
Spring Beach
Living in Colorado, the beauty of the ocean is something I don’t experience very often. It’s a different type of sublime than the mountains. This is a plein air (on location) painting on the beach in San Jose del Cabo, Mexico.
The Sky Tumbles Over the Rim
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.
Under the Ceiling of Leaves
The woods are a private, amber room, holding the day in a slow and generous light. A few beams find their way down from the canopy, settling with a soft, blue weight on the surface of the water. Here, everything is patient, gathered, and still.
Red Rock Sentinel
The creek carries the cold memory of the high peaks, tumbling past the shadows of ancient stone. Towering red cliffs stand silent where the wilderness begins to take hold. Here, the stream etches its story into the ancient floor. The spirit finds a steady path along the unhurried bank.
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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 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 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.
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 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
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
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
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.
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.
Mountain Stream
Just past Kenosha pass, you run into the small city of Jefferson. Turn left. There's only one option. As you drive back into the mountains, you come across a mountain stream. My children played in it for hours.
Blue Poured into Summer Blue
The river carries the sky in its current, a blue that matches the wide air above. The water moves toward the light, spilling over the rocks in a silver song. It is a day of deep and quiet clarity. Title by poet Stanley Kunitz
Held Within the Canyon
Sunlight lingers on the high rims, but the canyon floor stays cool in the deep, green shadows. The stone walls rise like a sanctuary, creating a quiet room for the trees. The land is hospitable here, holding the day’s heat far above the water’s edge.
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
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.
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.
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
