This painting was inspired by a wonderful book, THE STORY COLLECTOR, by Evie Woods.  It deals with the "good people" who are fairies, spirits, part of the Irish Celtic tradition.  They live in green mounds at the foot of the Hawthorn Tree.  I was inspired to portray these magical beings and the majestic tree. The deer is my own magical being that I included.

Waiting for the hummingbird to appear at the feeder is the definition of faith.  I kept making hummingbird water (boil one cup distilled water + 1/4 cup sugar) all Summer long. Yet the hummingbird, who had appeared Summer after Summer did not appear!  Finally near the end of August he came! What jubilation!  And he returned again and again, so I was able to get a good look at him (though he drank that stuff mighty quick!) and I painted him.
​ I grew up in Los Angeles where I saw hummingbirds every day.  They hovered over my head as  I lay under the fucshia bush.  I loved hummingbirds, but took them for granted before I moved to New Jersey, where the ruby throated hummingbird does exist, but is very elusive!

Going to the Mall is supposed to be a happy time.  Maybe I will buy myself something, and I will have lunch at my favorite place. All of that happened on Wednesday. I bought a birthday gift for my friend and a pretty new blouse for myself.  Then I had lunch at California Pizza.  Guacamole and chips, and a lettuce wrap. Delicious!  There was a lady sitting next to me who jumped up and started dancing to the piped in music.  She was quite histrionic.  I thought she might be nuts, but later when I found myself, later that night, dancing in the kitchen just like her, I decided, perhaps she was a strange angel.
So all was right with the world as I headed home from the restaurant.  But two doors down my heart stopped.  The Puppy Store.  It's cruel to have these animals penned up.  They look unhealthy and unattended.  There were two adorable Scottie puppies.  They looked okay and were enjoying each other's company.  They were so tiny, probably just a month old.  But then I saw a Papillion looking out the window, standing  in a bed of straw.  He was no longer a puppy.  He was full grown.  He didn't have an abundance of fur. But it was his eyes. Sad, hopeless, and questioning.  Will anybody take me home?  I felt helpless.  No way could I save him.  They charge $3,000. I cried all the way home.  Painting him, is all I can do.

I will have a solo exhibit at the Verona Library, 17 Gould St., Verona NJ. The Reception is Sunday, March 3, 2:30 -4:30PM. The paintings will remain on exhibit for the months of March and April.

In our lives there are moments that are so special we never forget them.  The scene is in our head just waiting to be remembered.  One of my happiest memories is going to the Cascade Mountain Winery in Amenia, New York, with my husband, year after year. The entire experience was magical.  You sit on a deck looking at a miraculous meadow.  A huge oak tree, wildflowers in the grass, everything is still but alive.  All the senses are ignited. We sip wine that tastes like ambrosia, we eat goat cheese, olives, humus, gazpacho and home baked country bread. A gold finch flashes before our eyes.  A rider on a horse rides by. We sit in the summer sun never wanting this moment to end. But it will end and when it does, we will be left with a glistening memory, always in the mind ready to be retrieved and painted.

I love the Neue Galerie in New York City.  My painting pays homage to Klimt's "WOMAN IN GOLD". I saw the Max Beckman Exhibit and was blown away by his  "Descent From The Cross." So powerful. So much emotion and meaning expressed through howling paint. After that profound experience, I really needed some rose in  Cafe Sabarsky!

I remember the wonderful frilly yellow pinafore I had when I was six.  And I remember visiting a friend's horse farm in rural Ohio.  My parents' friend took me riding on a beautiful horse.  Over my head were the leaves of trees.  We had a picnic under the leaves.  It is a magic memory.  For some reason, I recently saw a golden Weeping Willow in bloom and that ignited this memory.  Perhaps, there was or wasn't a Weeping Willow in the original memory.  Probably not, as it was Summer not Spring.  But no matter, the Willow plays an important part in this painting, as you can see.

Sometimes you see a deer and it's a beautiful sight, but that's it.  But sometimes you see a deer and a deer sees you.  This deer appeared to be illuminated and looked right at me. Didn't look away or move away, but instead seemed to impart a message of hope for the future. Something so special, I could only record it in paint.

The people of my hometown of Los Angeles are mourning the loss of the beloved Icon, P-22. Twelve years ago, P-22 crossed two freeways and ended up in Griffith Park, where he lived alone and didn't mate.  He was often cited at night , sometimes in front of the Hollywood sign.  I like to paint celebrities and you can't get a bigger LA Star than P-22,whose haunted eyes were lined in black.  May his legend live on.