Open Studios – Saturday May 12 for Mother’s Day!

  MOTHER’S DAY @ NEST ARTS FACTORY Saturday, May 12, 2 – 5 pm What’s new at my studio? Come find out!  Bring your daughter, your mother or just yourself to celebrate Mother’s Day with me and 30+ other artists at NEST Arts Factory this Saturday, May 12 from  2-5 pm. Come enjoy original art, delicious nibbles and wine! I look forward to seeing you.  

The Fire of Drift-wood

I seem to be drawn to historic male poets from Maine, who speak of life and death …. and driftwood. It is a parallel and blessing that is continually unfolding and absolutely thrilling. The Fire of Drift-wood By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow DEVEREUX FARM, NEAR MARBLEHEAD. We sat within the farm-house old,        Whose windows, looking o’er the bay,  Gave to the sea-breeze damp and cold,        An easy entrance, night and day.  Not far away we saw the port,        The strange, old-fashioned, silent town,  The lighthouse, the dismantled fort,        The wooden houses, quaint and brown.  We sat and talked until the night, …

What will spring bring? Come find out!

Please join me and 40 other artists at NEST Arts Factory on Saturday March 10 from 2 – 5 pm for Open Studios! Also from 2 – 5 pm check out this Opening Reception hosted by NEST: The Associate Members of the NEST are exhibiting works in a variety of media – oil, acrylic, and watercolor painting, as well as mixed media, fiber and ceramic. You can find more information about the artists and all of the Associate Members on the NEST website. Come enjoy original art, delicious nibbles and wine! I look forward to seeing you. Studio #18, NEST ARTS FACTORY, 1720 Fairfield Avenue, Bridgeport

Design Developments

Do I design jewelry or sculpture? This is a weekly question and not too challenging because I am fortunately usually drawn to one or the other. Today it is sculpture. This is a recent excerpt from my notebook about two projects. “F is for….” is a wall piece. The umbrella represents dread. To experience it you pull the umbrella on a spring down from the ceiling and stand under it entangled in black curly sheep strands. The Wood Man…not sure where he is going… Perhaps not the brightest day of designing? Thinking of how to recreate emotion through experience in…

New Work: How Charlotte Found Me

Young Charlotte lived by the mountain side, A wild and lonely spot; No dwelling there, for three miles round, Except her father’s cot; And yet on many a winter’s eve Young swains were gather’d there, For her father kept a social board, And she was very fair. Her father loved to see her dress’d As prim as a city belle, For she was all the child he had, And he loved his daughter well… I’m not quite sure when Charlotte first appeared for me. It may have been the one my mother-in-law gave me recently, or it may have started…