To be perfectly honest, this site is more for me than it is for you—though I am delighted and honored that you've chosen to visit, and I heartily welcome your browsing. Because it has always been difficult for me to confine my creative wanderings to just one medium, I've set up this on-line gallery to memorialize, categorize, and harmonize the creative excursions that enrich my life these days.
In the past I've never documented projects as they emerged and, as I'm always enticed to begin new explorations, the memory of past accomplishments has inevitably faded. (Once in a while, I've been curiously reminded of a forgotten project when I've visited a little-seen and/or faraway friend who has been the recipient of my one of my past creations.) Hopefully, this site will remedy that lapse.
With a lifetime of 'making' behind me, I have recently discovered the gratification of stepping back from completed projects to observe recurring patterns & formats & concepts that weave through my work. I painted a series of square fruits & vegees when I was nineteen, and then—without realizing I was doing it—produced a series of square floral photos forty years later...
This is my art—and I am just now beginning to understand exactly what that is.
I have passed through many personas on my journey to where I find myself today. During my sixty plus years I've been known as an architect, an artisan, a shopkeeper, a bookkeeper, a student, a teacher, a flutemaker, a clothesmaker, an archivist, an environmentalist, a librarian, a vegetarian.
I've been gainfully employed, self-employed, occasionally unemployed, and am now post-employed (the greatest employment of all). I've survived and excelled while earning my keep in corporate, academic, commercial, hospitality, and artisan environments.
I've lived mostly in California—both northern and southern—with short stints in Washington, Texas, and Virginia. Today, in the autumn of my life, I am living quietly and comfortably in my mountaintop home with my dear patient husband Jack and our three entertainingly neurotic cats.
I have always been motivated to make and design; mainly to understand how things are constructed—logically, efficiently, gracefully—and ultimately and hopefully, beautifully. It now seems I've always been fascinated by variations on a theme and exploration through repetition. There's few media I haven't tried at least once, just to know what it feels like, and what potential could be lurking there.
Lunaeria is the botanical name for a wild plant that pops up from time to time in my mostly native garden. I have always known it as ‘money plant’, while some others refer to it as the ‘silver dollar plant’. One day not long ago I discovered that the old-fashioned common name for this plant is ‘honesty’.
So while lunaeria is a simple, memorable word that elicits images of the moon and lunacy, the addition of honesty adds a magical, mystical, auspicious element to my practice of creative musings and explorations.
The plant itself is notable in the spring for its stunning masses of tiny, short-lived, purple and white blossoms; appears dormant during the summer while the focus is on developing its vital seeds; and re-emerges into splendor in the autumn, flashing moon-shaped luminescent seed pod membranes that remain after wind and weather have separated the seeds from their worn brown casings.
These distinct phases of the plant's lifespan directly parallel the evolution of my creativity musings during my lifespan. Now in my sixties, I recognize and savor how fortunate I am to be in the glorious autumnal phase of my creative expression, after passing through both the early bursts of flowering and the oh-so-serious productivity phases of life.