I was a kid that didn’t like to color.

Oh I wanted that box of 64 crayons with the sharpener. But that was all about being cool, and had nothing to do with creative options.

My first creative outlet didn’t manifest until I was 43, when I discovered photography. Then in early 2020, at age 57, drowning in the sudden responsibilities of caring for a mother with Alzheimer’s, I could not breathe for the need to make something. Something beyond the photography I enjoyed. Creating art with paint and paper was a way to get my head above water. To find buoyancy. To gather my experiences and stories and allow them to continue, possibly long after I’m gone. I wanted to wander in them, document them, in case they flew away someday, to join all my mother’s memories that had deserted her. The 45+ years spent living and recreating in the western United States certainly provided unlimited inspiration.

At a dead run, I entered the journey of learning about art and artists. A process, I quickly realized, that like photography, has no end. You simply walk your path, picking up a skill here, some inspiration there…and a daily art practice is born. The work felt like writing letters, to myself, to anyone who cared to listen. Hence the name, Epistle Art.

2023 brought a move from Northern Utah to Northwest Arkansas, where my practice continues in my home studio. I use acrylic paints, pastels, and my own hand-painted collage papers to create paintings, mixed media work and journals. I rarely start any piece of work with a conscious intention. Shapes start to form, figures appear, often recurring, and I start to recognize the idea, or memory that my hands want to talk about today.

Does some part of my story resonate with you? If so, please feel free to email me and tell me about yourself. In my opinion, that’s how we best navigate our lives. By finding others who understand our journey so we can walk awhile together. Thanks for visiting!