Art is not just for sale.  It is also for celebration.

When we lived in Pennsylvania six years ago, I made weekly runs to several local thrift shops.  I would find stacks of perfectly preserved LIFE magazines and Saturday Evening Posts from the 1940’s and 1950’s.  I would pour over these magazines with great intrigue, both from a historical and creative standpoint.  The photography was amazing.  The articles were crisply written.  The advertisements were colorful and representative of that “dress to the nines” and “white picked fence”  and wartime era. 

As I perused one Saturday Evening Post, I came across a fabulous, full page ad for United Airlines.  Most people would just keep flipping, but this 1954 ad was special.  It caught my eye because my brother-in-law had spent his entire career at Continental/United Airlines. 

Tracy began his work with the United (then Continental) airlines after graduating from Texas Tech in 1986.  He successfully moved up the ladder, starting with crew tracking and pilot scheduling, he has overseen manpower, dining, inflight services, cargo, food services, flight operations, labor analysis, operations, planning and efficiency.  Over the course of  these positions and earning an MBA from the University Texas, he advanced from manager to Senior Vice President of Customer Service and then Senior Vice President of  United Express.  His career has not been without exhausting challenges, yet he remained without complaint.  In hard-working 1950’s fashion, Tracy was dedicated to one organization, without chasing dollar signs and higher titles, and without being fortuitous or opportunistic.  I have always held him in high regard because of this.  He was still enormously successful.

I had to preserve this United ad and someday, when Tracy retired, I would work it into a piece of art to commemorate his stellar professional journey.

In June of 2019, and after 32 years with the airline, Tracy made the decision to retire. I pulled out the ad (which had thankfully survived four military moves) and pondered what to do with it?  It sat on the counter and I would walk by it and try to think of what might be interesting, and it took a while.  Why not place it in an airplane window, making the window somewhat vintage, to reflect the 1950’s spirit?

Clearly, I thought of the national and worldwide travel that United has provided.  I also thought of the places Tracy was able to generously explore with his family and friends. Vintage postcard paper became wallpaper.  Papers with compasses and American flags frame the window.  Looking out the window, you see the advertisement on the tarmac. 

The ad itself is a reflective and entertaining work of art.  Zoom in and check it out.  Travelers are dressed in their Sunday best and walking on a red carpet with cameras running.  The ad mentions games, music, meals by world-famous chefs, and white-gloved treatment of your luggage.  Folks did not take their ability to travel lightly.  It was an event and a gift.  For the first time people were more connected.  It was really a celebration.  Wouldn’t it be great to get a glimmer of those days?

This piece is primarily a celebration of Tracy, but also a reminder to be our best and be grateful.   Times have changed.  The world has become more casual, less appreciative, and takes things for granted.  But not my brother-in-law. He is optimistic. He has known for years that hard work and dedication pay off.  He just started a new adventure in retirement. He’s relaxing, playing more golf, dating my sister, watching football, traveling with family, cooking up a storm, and evening brewing some beer.  He is grateful. He has earned it.  His smile says it all.

I am fascinated with cultural traditions, especially those that involve faith and spirit. I think it is wonderful to believe that we can be united with our deceased loved ones, even if just for a moment.

Last October, I was visiting the Tucson Botanical Gardens and came across the most intriguing altar. It was adorned with flowers, candles, photographs, rosaries, crucifixes, sugar skulls, light strands, and bright linens. The gardens had left post-it notes, inviting visitors to leave a note to a deceased loved one. It was near the the time of the Mexican celebration of the Day of the Dead. Tucson celebrates this day over an entire weekend, with an All Souls Procession, Procession of Little Angels, a Night of the Living Fest, costumes, and music.

Dia de los Muertos, is celebrated in central and southern Mexico, beginning at midnight on October 31. It is believed that at that exact time, the gates of heaven open and the spirits of all deceased children are reunited with their families for 24 hours. On November 2, the spirits of the adults come down to enjoy the festivities that are prepared for them.

These preparations might include lavish altars made in homes with candles, water, fruits, toys, cocoa, and folk art skulls. I imagine they look like the altar that I saw at the gardens. Sugar skulls also adorn the altars as a sweet treat for the returning spirits to enjoy. Families can spend up to two month’s salary to honor their dead relatives, believing they provide protection, wisdom, and good luck. It is deeply meaningful celebration, often including a procession and party in a cemetery.

The sugars skulls, with their happy smiles and brightly colored decorations represent the departed soul in a positive manner. I thought the skulls were super, so I decided to make one in mixed media. Background papers are playful and add sentiments. I added a cross for faith, a heart for love, two suns shine at the top, candy corn and flowers adorn.

As I created my skull, I could not avoid thinking of my niece, Jordan, who died of cancer in 2014. She was a vibrant teenager, super sociable, full of life, and she loved sugar, just like the rest of us. At her celebration of life (because who wants to call it a funeral?) everyone was asked to wear bright colors. Jordan was born on the 17th day of August. She died on the 17th of December. On the 17th day of the many months since her death, we often run into someone named Jordan, or meet someone that looks like her, or get a reminder of her, in some way shape or form, that tells us her spirit is alive and well in Heaven. 17 has become a lucky and meaningful number for our family. Superstitious or not, the little things like this, and the more spectacular, like Dia de los Muertos, keep us connected.

I love Arizona.  As a mid-western raised young lady, born in Dallas, it was completely foreign to me until I was in my late teens. When I was a senior in high school, I was determined to find a university with a great art program.  My aunt, Genevieve Reckling, suggested that I look at the University of Arizona and Arizona State University.  It was the 1980’s, before the recession, and the arts were thriving in the world.  People were investing in art AND the stock market. Both schools had outstanding art programs.  And I trusted my aunt’s suggestion. She was a renowned Southwestern artist.  She was also my groovy, free-spirited, creative idol.

I visited the University of Arizona in January of 1988.  We arrived in the deep darkness of a winter evening.  I awoke the next morning, threw open the curtains out of curiosity, and discovered desert mountains, palm trees, cacti, and weather that allowed a mini-skirt for a winter college tour.  It.  Was.  Awesome.  And my father promised to visit anytime.  Clearly, he saw the warm, sunny weather to be a plus in the middle of winter.

I was accepted to three great universities.  But there was something special about the U of A and their art program.  I chose the big state school over the ritzy private universities.  And off I went in the fall of 1988 to be a Wildcat.  To rush and pledge Alpha Phi, to new friends, to self-discipline, to Mexico for the weekend, to an amazing education, to create, to discover independence.  College, and all it brought with it, was fabulous.

My parents came to celebrate my college graduation in May of 1992.  We took a day trip to Tubac, a small town colonized by artists, which lies south of Tucson.  I was sharing my post-graduation plans to intern at the Guggenheim Museum in New York City with an older gentleman in one of the art galleries.  He told me that I would be back…that I would miss Arizona…the big sky…the sunsets.

Well, he was correct.  I returned years later.  I worked as a paralegal.  I had been accepted to law school.  I met a wonderful man.  I had my first solo art show.  It was successful.  I declined law school.  I married.  I gave birth to my first child.  I began my journey as an Air Force spouse.  Great friendships and memories were created, once again, in Arizona.

After twenty years of numerous Air Force adventures around the globe, we luckily found our way back to Tucson last summer.  We are thrilled and inspired.  The desert, the mountains, the friendly people, the Wild Wild West are constant inspiration which we get to share with our children. Our teens love the desert.  Our oldest child is now a Wildcat.  BEAR DOWN.  And the desert inspiration and calm lives on! Life is inspired, simple, and good.

Arizona is special.  One of a kind.  I hope that at some point, everyone can experience this creative, vibrant and relaxing, warm and alive culture.  You will be inspired, as I have been, and not disappointed. 

2019. It seems so cliché to be writing about the year. But now that I feel settled in Tucson, I have been thinking about how to spend my time. Three simple events impacted my thinking this week. It’s simply time to share.

I’ve been working at Anthropologie for several months now. On Friday, this lovely and friendly customer (we call them guests) was putting amazing outfits together in the fitting rooms. Brenda had a great eye, great taste, and a creative vibe. As we chatted, I discovered she is a printmaker who moved to Tucson two years ago from Santa Fe. Her story was so honest. She hasn’t created in over a year and a half. Her printing press didn’t fit in the studio at her new home in Tucson. She is renting studio space that doesn’t inspire her, so she doesn’t go there. Her organic, environmentally safe chemicals for her printmaking process aren’t working successfully. Her mother-in-law passed away this year. Her mother has Alzheimer’s disease. Her adult daughter had major surgery and is slowly recovering. She said, “It’s just easier to take a photo and put it on Instagram, and get more satisfaction from that, than working so hard to create.” Hmmm. I absolutely understood Brenda and her challenges and her reality. At times in life we get so torn down, it’s hard to function, and the energy we need to create just doesn’t exist consistently. By the time she left, I had Brenda’s business card and she agreed to join me on an art date in Tucson. But she really left an impact on me. I have been finding reasons not to create (hike, cook, read, kitchen remodel, work, soccer, swim, etc). I do have time and I need to make it happen. My problem is that I am scared and not sure where to begin again. What direction do I want to take? My conversation with Brenda told me I needed to get over this fear freezing me. Artists are funny about our work being accepted and we really take a personal risk putting our work out into the world. Truly, it isn’t just artists. Everyone is taking a risk to put themselves out there: to make friends, to go to the gym, to find a new job, to find a relationship, to move into a new home or a new city. We can’t let fear slow us down. So, I met Brenda on Friday.

On Saturday, I hiked Picacho Peak with my sister Stephanie. We knew it was going to be a challenge. It’s a four-mile hike that takes four hours. My husband reminded me to bring gloves for the steel cables we would need to hold for the hike, so I grabbed my gardening gloves. For some reason, his suggestion didn’t register that it might be rather steep. I was thinking the steel cables would be horizontal, and not VERTICAL. I hike quite a bit, but I fear heights, so usually I take a pretty wide path to stay in my comfort level. And let me tell you, hiking Picacho Peak on Saturday took me completely out of that comfort level. The peak rises 1,500 feet from the desert floor. Little did I know I would be holding on to numerous sets of steel cables, climbing up faces of rock with only cables to hold onto, and nothing on the other side.

My palms were sweaty, and I couldn’t look down.  I wasn’t sure I would make it to the top. Stephanie was so calm and encouraging, and seemingly fearless! When we reached the peak, I joked that I wasn’t sure how I was going to hike down. Stephanie reminded me that fear can be controlled. Mind over matter. We need to think through things wisely. Be calm. Use discipline. We headed down the peak, which was MUCH easier, but still intimidating!  We laughed when a small plane flew through the sky below us.  

Hours later at the car, we celebrated our hike. We both overcame challenges, uncertainly and fear. We felt accomplished. We were psyched.  We joked about hiking it again another time.  And I was reminded, once again, that I need to face my fears head on, in life and in art. I must take risks to accomplish my goals.

The third event that impacted me this week was a VLOG inspiration that I watched this morning from a webinar course. The main point of the VLOG was this, “The things that we love are the things that matter most. Do them first.” So simple and so true.  Why waste time? This VLOG is part of a webinar course that I am taking with one of my dearest life-long friends. This month, Amy asked me to be her accountability buddy for a one-year webinar for goal setting in areas of life. My first thought was the fear of letting Amy down. Would I make the time to take care of my part of the deal? Will I be present and honest and hard working for the year, for my friend and for myself? And what will I learn about myself? What if I fail at my goals? This, once again, is fear. And I have set it aside.

Because it is time to be honest with myself. It’s time to take risks. It’s time to paint and not just post photos on Instagram. It’s time to climb mountains, even when I am hanging on for dear life. It’s time to trust others when they tell you where to put your feet on the rocks. It is time to be present for others and to let them be present for me. And it’s time to enjoy my shed and enjoy creating, just for myself and not for others. It’s time to do what I love, even if it can be frightening. And thanks to reminders from Brenda, Stephanie, and Amy, I know I don’t have to accomplish my dreams and goals alone.

Last summer, while hiking the Wank in Garmisch-Partenkirchen with my family, I began contemplating my next gallery showing.  I had six months to plan and paint. 

Garmisch is located in the Bavarian Alps.  It’s breathtaking all year long.  Our three hour hike took us to the top of a mountain, overlooking the valley and seemingly endless views of the Alps.  As I soaked in the scenery, I realized that Germany is beautiful all year round.  Yes, we have long, grey winters, but Germany radiates so many lovely traits that I have come to deeply appreciate.  That is what I needed to paint. 

My goal was to display the unique charm that we, as Americans, discover and adore in Germany.  Shortly after my hike, I asked my American friends, who are living or had lived in Germany, what they loved about Germany. The list was long and fabulous.  They mentioned the beer and wine fests, the walking trails, the vineyards on the Rhine and Mosel, the bright colors of the homes, the rooftops of villages, fields of pick-your-own flowers, flowers in the window boxes, Christmas markets, winding roads through the villages, towns along the Weinstrasse, church bells, castles, festivals, fields of rapeseed, sunflowers, bakeries, cobblestone, rolling hills, half-timbered houses, old architecture, cathedrals, paintings on the sides of houses, shrines to the Virgin Mary, and crosses on mountain peaks…and my husband reminded me of the German passion for Fußball (soccer).  My friends have been extremely observant!  And appreciative.

It was a long list, so I had to pick my favorites.  I used bright colors and texture to create a fun and upbeat vibe.  I will share only a small description behind each painting, because if you have experienced Germany (or even if you haven’t), you may want to finish the story yourself…

From Porrbach to Schwedelbach, 2016, Acrylic on Canvas

The endless, well-maintained walking trails in Germany.  Rain or shine.  Filled with people of all ages, on foot or bicycle, with or without man’s best friend (ein Hund).  This painting depicts a trail I spent hours on near my home in Schwedelbach with mein Hund.

Das Fest, 2016, Acrylic on Canvas

AHHH…Das Bierfest!  Whether you have experienced the tents of Octoberfest in Munich, Springfest in Stuttgart, or even in your local village, you will appreciate the vibration of the music, the energy, the laughter and singing while holding enormous mugs of beer and standing on benches at your table with hundreds of other happy people.  Unforgettable.

View from the Rhine, 2016, Acrylic on Canvas

The Rhine and Mosel Rivers are deeply cut into the landscape, surrounded by steep walls of vineyards.  And the occasional castle, of course.  This piece is based on views from a Rhine riverboat. The German wine country is quite picturesque (and delicious, if you are a wine lover!).

Rooftops of Idar Oberstein, 2017, Acrylic on Canvas

German villages are so unique and colorful.  The architecture is one-of-kind, with hundred-year-old homes standing next to contemporary.  The streets wind wildly through the villages.  The homes hug the sidewalks.  Quite charming and lively. 

Self-Serve Sunshine, 2017, Acrylic on Canvas

One of my favorite things…stopping on the side of the road to pick my own flowers.  There is no person overseeing this field, but there is a wooden stand with knives for cutting stems, a reasonable price list, and a money jar.  It’s truly based on trust.  I get to walk through fields of beautiful tulips, snapdragons, daisies, or sunflowers and pick my favorites for home and friends.  Love die Blumen!

Don’t Forget the Flower Boxes, 2017, Acrylic on Canvas

I adore the half-timbered homes, with their vibrant facades and fabulous shutters.  They have storybook character.  What is truly lovely, however, are the overflowing flower boxes that we get to enjoy from springtime into winter.  As a woman with no green thumb, I especially appreciate the flower boxes!

Friends, we will depart Germany with antiques, German phrases, full bellies, and incredible flea market finds, but the gifts of culture from our host nation are also real treasures. Genau. 

I plan to take Mein Deutschland home with me. 

These paintings will be on display at Galerie Atelier 35, located in Landstuhl, DE from February 24-March 30, 2017.  Opening night is Friday, February 24 from 6-8pm.

Blockhaus mit Sonnenblumen, 2016, 60 cm x 90 cm, Acrylic

Today, I handed over a commissioned painting to it’s new owner, Catherine.  Catherine contacted me last month, and asked me to paint a favorite landscape for her husband.  I said I would try my best, and asked her to send me a photograph of this special location.  Imagine my excitement when she sent me a photograph of one of MY favorite German spots – the hills surrounding Bernd’s Blockhaus.

Bernd’s Blockhaus is a local favorite for both Americans and Germans.  It’s a delightful restaurant and beer haven, situated in the rolling hills and colorful fields between Schwedelbach, Mackenbach and Weilerbach.  Every weekend, you will see families and friends from these villages, often accompanied by their loyal canines, strolling the farm roads to gather at Bernd’s for great food and relaxing conversation.  It’s more than a great atmosphere, though.  The experience makes you feel more connected to Germany.  Kids play fussball in the side yard and pet the horses.  Runners and bikers make their way along the bike paths.  The surrounding views are lovely.

As you can see, being asked to paint the Blockhaus landscape – requested with bright colors and fields of sunflowers – brought me great joy. I loved every moment in the studio.  This painting radiates the simple treasures of Germany that we want to hold on to forever.  I think I might have to paint one for myself.  Danke, Catherine! I hope this painting always brightens your home.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art is one of my favorite museums to visit.  I could (and did) spend an entire day there enjoying the art, the exhibitions, the architecture, and a delightful lunch in the cafe that overlooks the Sculpture Garden and the city beyond.  I never cease to be entertained as I overhear visitors comments regarding the contemporary work.  Seriously, some of it IS nutty!

While visiting MoMA two years ago, I purchased their gorgeous coffee table book, The Masterworks of Modern Art.  While reading the introduction to the book, written by MoMA’s Director, I discovered a quote which struck me,

“By locating objects and people in time as well as space, the Museum is constantly mapping relationships between works of art and their viewers, so that the space of the Museum becomes a site of narration where many individual stories can be developed and realized.”  

Of course, museums strategically place the art and the visitors in galleries (and those benches aren’t just for your tired feet, those benches are also there for your brains to sit and contemplate art!), but the words that popped for me were RELATIONSHIPS and INDIVIDUAL STORIES.  When you adore or detest a painting or sculpture, you have chosen your relationship with the piece. And, then, you can be super entertained, giving the piece of art your own wild story (especially the modern stuff).

On my blog, I often write the detailed story behind the creation.  It would be nice, however, for the VIEWER to write the story behind my piece.

So let’s try this… I challenge my viewers to create your own story.   Here are two recent pieces to divulge.  Created with acrylic, vintage book pages and paper.    Two ladies, two rooms, two color schemes, two situations.  They might be in the same house, they might be worlds apart.  Be creative. You don’t have to share.  Hate it or love, write the story.  Share it with a friend or family.  And make it interesting! I call them ‘Waiting’ and ‘Wondering’… but I am not going to tell you which one…is which.

I was at a gallery opening recently. A sweet, little (older) German woman wanted to explain her painting to me. Due to our unfortunate language barrier, she grabbed a friend to translate the story behind the abstract castle and landscape she had painted. Most importantly, she wanted me to know that the painting was all from her mind. That’s it. It came from HER mind (she pointed to her head) and she was super proud of that (she was adorable, by the way).

I am often asked, how did you think of that? Usually, something tips me off to a new idea. For this series, it was a book that my dad recently sent me, called “A Book of Saints for Catholic Moms,” which turned out to be a really great book. The subtitle, “52 Companions for your Heart, Mind, Body and Soul,” connects each saint with one of these aspects of our being.

So, I painted a series of the four things we need to personally nourish and cherish to feel whole: Body. Mind. Heart. Spirit. My initial idea is that these paintings would all resemble stained glass windows like the ones I admire in cathedrals across Europe. Not just the traditional stained glass, but also the contemporary stained glass of modern artists that are sprinkled among century-old churches (think Gaudi in Barcelona, Mucha in Prague, and Chagall in Reims, just to name a few).

I started simply with Spirit, collaging a candle in a distant landscape, adding a cross and then the dove, as a sign of peace and Spirit. Do you see them all? Our spirits are all different and must be represented as such. Some people are most spiritual while simply in nature. Others find their spirit in organized faith. Yet another lights a candle and meditates.  All are positive and good.

The heart was next. The heart resembles a window in a dark room.  The window was created with scripture pages and from prayer cards that I have been collecting over the years. A landscape of rolling hills sits outside the window. My idea for this piece? Get out of the darkness. Open your heart and share it with others. In a world of misunderstanding and hatred, our hearts should seek to love outside of ourselves and our comfort zones.

Next was the body. The body is organic, warm, loving, and comforting. It is nothing to be ashamed of. I used energized colors to emphasize the warmth and necessity of an embrace.  Scripture regarding the body is collaged into the background to remind us that, from the beginning, our bodies are gifts.

Finally, the mind. The mind is a beautiful, yet, complicated and exhausting place. I thought of the many things we pack into our minds on a daily basis. Technology, music, arts, reading, games, work, travel, STEM, commitments overload us. I placed this mind on an island to remind us to give our hard-working minds a vacation from time to time!

So, friends, remember (and I need the reminder, as well)… Nourish. Cherish.

Body. Mind. Heart. Spirit. Each 30 cm x 60 cm (11.5 ” x 23.5″).  Mixed media on canvas.