We spend a good deal of our lives chasing things. Things like a better job, our idea of success, or just more possessions of one sort or another. Our culture has evolved to set us on an endless race that can be both seductive and addictive.
Occasionally throughout my life, I've paused to take stock. Where am I? What am I doing with my life? Am I heading in the right direction or have I become distracted? Do I maybe need to shift into low gear or change direction? 
Then I ask myself what's really important? And do I already have enough, whatever that is? Have I achieved enough? Have I tried hard enough? Have I experienced enough? 
No doubt age plays a big role in how anyone would answer those questions. In the end, it's not usually the material things that really matter anyway. Was there enough time with family and friends? Was there enough walks with the dog, or enough time spent just looking at trees?  Was there enough love and compassion? The simple things truly matter.
Intention also matters. How about the phrase, "Enough is enough"? How many times has someone said, "I'm tired. I've had enough" when they are at the point of overload or exhaustion? There can be all kinds of repercussions from having too much. 
When I titled this latest of my earthling paintings "Enough", I was thinking about all the ways you can interpret that word. For me, I consider that in this finite world, we all need to consider when we have enough and what are the consequences of wanting more of anything. Truthfully, we probably already have enough. Or maybe the focus just needs to shift. 
That's a whole lot of meaning wrapped up in one word. Enough said.

Spring is in the air and it was a beautiful day to deliver new work to the gallery. These latest from my studio are pure abstraction and I love the energy, immediacy, and freedom they exude. The same feelings I had while creating them. Not too much thinking, just allowing myself to play with colour and movement, responding without overworking. Sounds easy enough perhaps, but at the same time my eye was considering a multitude of things such as elements of balance and rhythm, tonal qualities, ensuring there were quiet areas to offset the wilder moments. And then I step away. Leave the work. Return another day to see how it makes me feel. Turn the canvas and consider it from all angles. Perhaps I jump in and alter colours, play a bit more, or maybe I just sit with the work and let it be. I never feel like I am in total control. It is an interaction between myself and the painting. I listen. My hand just starts to move, putting colour on canvas, my eye making lightning-quick decisions and, sometimes, not looking at all. These abstractions are all about letting go and seeing where the work takes me.  I'm always surprised, always smiling, and happy with the end result.  See these two newest paintings at 14 Bells Fine Art Gallery.

An artist's inspiration is a personal thing, but I don't think I'm alone when I say music is a huge presence in my studio. Over the years, I've usually had music playing while I paint. The choice of music has varied from jazz and blues, folk and rock, to dramatic movie scores, but it has always made a difference.
Sometimes the music is just in the background, setting the mood while I work away. (Okay, yes, there may in fact be dancing involved as well.) Sometimes the song itself has helped me visualize an idea. In fact, I've created some paintings which I could only work on when I listened to a specific recording. Other times, the music provides the very energy that propels the direction of each brushstroke. A number of years ago, I presented a series of paintings in a solo exhibition entitled The Art of Jazz (see several from this series under archives here).
This year my earthling series is taking the connection one step further. The earthlings themselves are responding to the music. This seems appropriate as I consider music is the universal language. I don't believe there is any country, any culture, which does not create its own music flavoured by a unique history and influences. Listening to music, playing music, dancing to music. We don't just hear music. We feel music. We create song with our own voices. It moves us like nothing else. I don't think folks are unhappy when music is involved. In fact, it usually pulls us together.
I also believe the earth itself has its own rhythm, its own song. It comes from the ground beneath our feet, the wind, the ocean, and all the creatures who call earth home. I just hope we all take the time to listen, to learn to really listen and understand what this beautiful planet has to teach us. Wouldn't it be nice if we could all dance together.

It seems if you have a creative nature, that instinct will find a way. And in as many ways as possible. Many visual artists are also musicians or writers or actors. For almost as long as I have been drawing and painting (since childhood), I have also loved to express myself by writing. Sometimes the writing has taken the form of poetry; sometimes I have written newspaper columns about people. Over the years, I've also been lucky enough to combine those two passions by writing about art and other artists. 
Interviewing and writing about other artists gives me the perfect excuse to meet artists I might not meet any other way. I love hearing the stories about their artistic journey, their inspiration, their challenges and successes. Each artist is unique and yet, we speak the same language. As well, being an artist (or writer) can often be a solitary pursuit, and meeting another artist is a welcome opportunity to talk to others who understand and share that same lifestyle. 
I also believe art collectors and all those who are touched by another's creativity, enjoy hearing the story behind the artist. Appreciation often deepens when understanding grows, and connections are made that might not exist without that background knowledge. 
Currently I am interviewing artists from The Prow Gallery, sister gallery to 14 Bells Fine Art where my own art is available.  It's a joy in every regard meeting these artists and I am always grateful and humbled by their willingness to share from the heart. Check it out here:   Breaking the Surface.

It was over two years ago that I first presented my Earthling series. My mind was very much on the ever-evolving issue of climate change. (That hasn't changed.) At the same time, the idea of placing a stick figure into one of my abstract paintings had been something I'd been imagining for several years. When I was asked to do a solo show, the time seemed right to combine those two ideas in a new series.
The challenge of opening that show during the start of the pandemic was something I've written about before and I give full credit to Cheryl Bell of 14 Bells Fine Art for her determination in making it happen when circumstances were far from ideal.
The response to the Earthlings was over-whelming, encouraging me to continue the series long after the show ended, as I do today.  They have evolved somewhat over time, but their impact remains the same. They seem to connect with people and that is what you always hope for as an artist, to create a painting that perhaps says far more than you could express any other way. 
I have been asked how long it takes me to create each of these paintings. For all their seeming simplicity, each of the Earthling paintings takes a considerable amount of time and thought. It usually begins with a feeling I want to express about our planet, our humanity, our similarities. Then I must consider how to best communicate that through the child-like innocence of a stick-figure. I do a great many sketches searching for the most expressive pose. One constant I adhere to is the multi-coloured aspect of each figure which represents the fact that no matter where we come from, no matter our culture or background, beliefs or way of life, we are all the beings of a planet called Earth. The painting backgrounds remain purposely abstract, colour and light never quite materializing into something recognizable, but perhaps suggesting some earthly quality. Above all else, these are Earthlings. We are all Earthlings and maybe that's where the connection lies. I hope so.
The Earthlings will continue to evolve, continue to express feelings about our planet, our life and times. I honestly don't know where that will all lead, but I hope they mirror a positive, compassionate, and united future.

I'm very pleased to be exhibiting two paintings in the first Society of Canadian Artists Atlantic Members Exhibition opening Saturday, October 15 at 14 Bells Fine Art Gallery in Halifax. This is the first SCA show to highlight elected and associate members from the Atlantic Provinces and I'm in very fine company. The 35 artworks vary in both style and medium from paintings to sculpture and photography. The show continues until October 30th and everyone is welcome. For those  unable to visit the gallery in Halifax, the artwork is available to see online by clicking HERE. 

My Mom passed away this week. She was the first artist I ever knew. I watched her from the time I was a very young girl as she took colour and created a world of memories where there had only been a white canvas. I was spell-bound. She was mainly self-taught taking an adult education class to learn the basics, but Mom was fearless painting anything from the local landscape to commissioned portraits. She was a farm-wife living out in the country, but that never stopped her. First she started sharing her work on easels set on our front lawn on the corner. Cars stopped. Lots of cars. Soon she was showing in local exhibits and taking endless commissions. Eventually she became a student of artist Charles Couper and took her first university course to study art history. She loved painting and was immensely proud of the series she completed of the historical main street buildings in her hometown of Berwick. Seven years ago Mom suffered a severe stroke, but within months, she was painting again. We were amazed. Then one day, she asked me, "How do I make green?" And she knew. We both knew. She just smiled and put the paints away. If she couldn't paint the way she always could, it was time to stop. 
Mom, all your paintings are still out there. They're hanging on walls and featured in books and people still love them. You were an artist and you were my inspiration. 

Well this was a surprise in so many ways. Recently gallery owner Cheryl Bell emailed me about an interview, explaining producer Paul Kimball was creating a new show called Gallery 902 for Eastlink television. Sharing my art is why I paint, but having my photo taken (let alone being on film) is right up there with standing on the edge of a tall building. Not my favourite thing. However, director and host Veronica Reynolds invited me for coffee and put my mind more at ease. This might even be fun. In the end, it was actually a great experience and I'm so grateful for the opportunity.
As an interviewer, Veronica does her homework. She asked me to look back to when I first became an artist (it was as soon as I could hold a pencil), my transition from realism to abstract art, community art projects I've been involved in over the years, and all about my current work hanging at 14 Bells Fine Art Gallery. It was a wonderful opportunity for me to remember how this artistic journey all began, the challenges and high points along the way, and what lies ahead. Although I've always made art, it took me a long, long time before I would call myself an artist as I just felt so humbled by all the great artists I admired. But then I finally realized that being an artist was not something I wanted to do, it was who I always was from the start.
A huge thank you to Veronica and her team for the whole experience, for allowing me to share my story and my art. Personally I can't wait to see the entire upcoming series when it premieres in 2023. This province is blessed with an abundance of fabulous artists and each of them has their own personal story to tell.
Also a sincere thank you to Cheryl Bell, owner of both 14 Bells Fine Art and The Prow Gallery, for making this all possible. 

More new work recently delivered to 14 Bells Fine Art Gallery in Halifax. This year marks the gallery's fifth anniversary and I'm so proud that I've been part of the 14 Bells family of artists from the very start. Finding a gallery that encourages and supports your work is so important. Gallery owner Cheryl Bell is an absolute professional from start to finish and I will be forever grateful for the unwavering faith she has in my work and all the other artists she represents. The teamwork involved is so important and I have the greatest trust and respect for all her efforts. No surprise that Cheryl has opened a second beautiful gallery on the Halifax waterfront. She's made a huge difference in the art landscape of our city. Here's to continued success for 14 Bells Fine Art and the new Prow Gallery.

At any given time, our world faces problems and crises that humanity struggles to address. Already this century is presenting  a unique combination of challenges heightened no doubt by the immediate and ceaseless barrage of information presented by the internet. Like many people, and as an artist, I have watched and listened and searched for understanding.
​My new series of paintings contemplates the paradox of "less is more" and the various interpretations of that phrase. The dictionary offers this definition, "to express the view that a minimalist approach to artistic matters is more effective, that there is value in simplicity and that more can be accomplished with less." 
In a world of excess, less can also offer both relief and a solution. Having less of one thing can lead to more of another.  Our lives are inundated with endless information, good and bad. Stepping back from this overload, offers relief and more relaxation. In another example, the endless demands of consumerism greatly stress our lives and the planet. Simply put, buying less, accumulating less, wanting less, takes pressure off of our lives and offers more freedom. It certainly offers relief to the planet.  This interpretation of "less is more" can be applied to many issues including less confrontation, more peace. It begins with priorities and what is truly important.
My new work pares down the excess. There is a certain peace in the simplicity. The smaller focal point, the movement and energy of the organic black and white drawing, is relieved by the clean edge and larger mass of solid colour. Less is more. Less offers more.
Painting each work in this series is an exercise in meditation, the circular forms a reflection of the Zen ensō. Focusing on the form is enough, at once complete and endless, empty yet full. Another paradox to consider. Less is more.
These are my thoughts, expressed visually, offered humbly, but my joy comes from the individual interpretation of each viewer.