Winter to Spring, a farewell for now

Here in my Winter's Journal, you will find memories from the remaining weeks of February. Romantic sentiments of time spent in a lover's arm celebrating Valentines.


Seeing a flock of Robins feeding on the berries leftover from Autumn in a tree near my front door.


This little book has become quite thick with pages spilling over... one into another. I love holding it in my hands... running my fingers across fabric, paper, ephemera with both rough and smooth textures touching my skin.

It will be bitter sweet at the end of December when I finish this book. Part of me can hardly wait to see it completed, and yet... another piece of me will mourn the end of such an incredible journey.

For everything we do big or small is, in fact, a journey.

I wanted to show you a picture of the journal so there would be a glimpse of all the pages in one photograph, but there were too many to capture.

So, I leave you with this one image, showing most, but not all of my cherished moments journaling the beautiful Winter season.

Busy in the Studio

Spring Fever has begun to sink in and take hold of me. There is so much to be done in the garden, yet the chill keeps me from wandering outside for any great length of time. So here I am, longing for warmer days when I can bask in the sun, wearing my favorite straw hat wrapped with a purple sherbert colored scarf around the brim, and bejeweled by a vintage pin on the front.

Although the weather is not cooperating, I keep busy by creating, painting, and making new art. My latest works show signs of my restlessness for the return of leafy green on the trees, songs wafting upon the breeze from little birds building their nests, along with various other small creatures scampering about, experiencing the newness of the landscape before them.

I did see a tiny chickadee on Wednesday, perched on the Christmas wreath still decorating the front door. He was pulling and tugging at a bit of raffia tied to the top. Unfortunately, I was off to lunch with a friend and did not have time nor camera to catch a picture of him... maybe next time. I will have to keep watch.

AND.. yesterday... there was a whole gang of robins, at least six or seven, gathered on the front porch picking berries left on the tree near the house...VERY EXCITING... INDEED.

I have been reorganizing my desk and the bulletin board in front of my computer with Spring time inspirations. Another sign that I am ready to leave Winter behind.


And it is time, for now, to set aside my beloved Winter Season Journal. When I started this new adventure I decided to add December's pages into Winter's book. So until then, I say goodbye to the familiar, and start fresh with the Spring Journal.

Although the journal will be reintroduced at the end of the year, I want to share a couple of pages with you before I tuck it away. However, I am putting the finishing touches on them. So, I promise to post pictures early next week.

There are also a few new originals in the shop for the beginning of March. These pieces hold tight to the lingering whispers of days to come, bright and sunny moments filled with renewed heart... renewed spirit.

And, returning to the shop are additional copies of several Fine Art Prints that sold in February.

Next week, I am off to the west coast to teach a private class for some INCREDIBLE ladies I met at Art and Soul last year. They promise to turn my visit into one big slumber party. I have my sock monkey PJ's and house slippers packed! It should be lots of FUN.

Definitely, a delightful way to extricate the thicket of Winter by surrounding myself with the light of friendship. Don't you think!

Winter to Spring, winter's keeping

"this low light at end of day
the brilliant sky in fiery hues of gray
a cresent moon sings us to sleep
under the blanket of winter's keeping
mere reflections of noble simplicity
just a remembrance of life's sweet majesty"

Winter to Spring, falling stars

There have been many gray days in the plains where you can hardly distinguish the sky from the ground. Then the snow comes, falling ever so gently, until the chilling north wind steps in, changing the tempo of the snowflake's slow waltz.

Today the sun has returned, but only makes fools of us for thinking it is as warm as it looks. The temperatures instead are the coldest they have been all season. I wandered outside despite the bitter cold, enjoying the beauty of the landscape from my own garden. The flowers that remain are so perfectly preserved with almost translucent petals.


These first days of another year have seemed so rich and full, following a new direction for my life. This declared path of exploring a cherished dream of being devoted to my own art full time, keeps my mind flooded with ideas and possibilities that are constantly fluttering about like moths to a flame.

And at night... I reward myself from a day of hardwork with meandering moments spent in my Winter's Journal. I adore looking at the cover of this little book with all its pages neatly tucked inside, and flecks of gold stardust sprinkled on top, here and there.

Although I may find myself painting nearly all day long, I can never get enough of the creative process... the hours and minutes while away so quickly.

Soon, I find that I have a new page to share and a bit of poetry as well.

"finding delight in a winter's tale
as white stars fall...
covering the canvas of my errors,
a beginning, another start given,
as I stand idle between this peace,
and anxious to find my box of paints"

Winter to Spring, these reminders

The weather has been teasing us with a few warm sunny days, but the grayness returns. And, I am grateful for this reverberation, as I am not ready for spring.

I relish the company of winter in all of its splendor. I love chilly days that cause me to dress in my favorite sweaters, and have me wearing the vintage coats that I discovered while browsing flea markets and antique stores.

I could stare endlessly at snowflakes drifting from the heavens turning the landscape into a clean white canvas ready for painting. Winter hours make for a good excuse to stay inside, all cozy.

I especially love the wintry view from my front windows that gaze out upon crowning branches of the large trees peeking over the rooftops of neighbor's houses. Bare limbs, that bend and sway with the winds, stretching and reaching for the heavens, hold the stories of seasons past.

My eyes are always drawn to a number of now abandon bird's nests so carefully tucked amidst a maze of twigs. These are the sweet recollections of life and its beginnings, a once safe haven for young fledglings, the home where they grew strong so as to spread their wings, and fly...
I am inspired by this season and its offerings. These moments, maybe small and insignificant to some, urge me on to create and explore. Each finding sparks ideas and dreams along this path of artful living, affording me fodder for doing what I love.

Soon, the first days of spring will actually arrive and these glimpses will be gone, lost or hidden for another year behind the new sprouts of green.

Winter to Spring, a beginning

The crisp Winter landscape offers so much inspiration. In my own front yard, gorgeous dark green hollies with their contrasting bright red berries burst forth just begging to be noticed against the muted colors of the other foliage.

Even with the cold temperatures and abundant snowfall over the last several weeks, a small flock of swallows decorate the sky every afternoon. I have enjoyed watching them glide upon the updrafts, catching the breezes of a gusting north wind. They speak to one another in the most harmonious tones that fill the air with delightful sounds.



Across the road is a hedgerow that borders a now harvested crop field. The trees along this edge are tall and majestic with age. I love staring at the bare limbs in winter. Each branch twisting, curling, and intertwined among the others, a reminder of how our days intertwine and cross the paths of so many.




"These first days with new moments are our January
leaving behind the weary memories of what was.

There is a quiet repose, a stillness to this landscape
as the heart beholds a threshold of earnest hours ahead."