Painting Speaks When Words Fail Me

People often ask me the why of what I do, and I’ve finally found the words to explain—painting lets me communicate when words fail. When I need painting inspiration I simply go into the yard and spend a few minutes communing with my colorful, petaled friends. The flowers are my paint.

Painting Speaks When Words Fail Me2019-07-15T17:36:31-08:00

A Gift From My Mom—46 Years in the Making

A swath of royal purple corduroy is finally put to use in a homemade quilt 46 years in the making. My mom would love that her great-granddaughter is enjoying the sewing she started long ago.

A Gift From My Mom—46 Years in the Making2019-05-05T10:41:59-08:00

In memory of my father

Gene Medaris (1929-2019) My father passed away yesterday, after a long journey through the shadows of dementia. He was my

In memory of my father2019-01-23T11:34:25-08:00

The illusion of control

Why had I waited so long to get extra care for Dad? Two reasons: foolish pride and a foolish vow.

The illusion of control2019-01-23T05:39:53-08:00

Still This Side of Heaven

We'd made it home for Christmas. Now it was time for the long road back, and I wasn't sure I was ready to start caregiving again.

Still This Side of Heaven2019-01-10T21:13:56-08:00

Please Don’t Forget Me

I’m realizing it wasn’t fame and notoriety that I craved over the years, it was having influence. And as I age, I’m realizing influence comes in many forms. I’m still afraid of being forgotten. But I’m going to begin cutting back on work in small steps.

Please Don’t Forget Me2019-01-01T10:06:51-08:00

No Time for Art

Why, oh why, is it so hard for us to give ourselves permission to paint?

No Time for Art2018-11-21T09:48:57-08:00