beating, and feeling the blood pulsating through me. I imagined the areas of oxygenated blood, contrasting with the deep, dark tissues and organs in the darkness of my anatomy, quietly sustaining the fragile physical balance. I explored the inner core, emotions and psyche of my being.

The painting was a good companion for a longish winter with many dark and stormy days, finding the dreary, very cold and wet weather to be a basis to contemplate the state of one's being. The color relationships of the reds and mixed blues were extremely enjoyable to explore, very cathartic. Cadmium red and Cerulean Blue were the most used tubes of paint.

The slide show demonstrates the various stages of the process. Masking tape goes on the canvas before a painting session, and it is pulled off as soon as the session is complete. The colors of the paint are selected for their reaction to each other and the mood that I'm channeling.

Despite that my parents' respective families experienced resilience and determination and happy times as well. One of my aunts personally recounted a memory of seeing pies cooling on the railing of the front porch on Sundays when they went to church.

Mom and Dad got married after WWll and moved to California. It must have felt like heaven, a brand new life in a brand new place. My dad worked over 30 years for the Southern California Gas Company. My mom, Maxine, raised my brothers and I, and later ran the kitchen at a large church and nursery school. Their practicality, fortitude and ability to make life cheerful were a result of the character that was formed in their earlier experiences.

My parents had a high school education. Our family lived simply and always had plenty of healthy food and pies. I recall my parents loved Fritos and bean dip. We lived in the San Joaquin Valley, where my eyes continually drank in the Sierra Nevada, vast fields of cotton and alfalfa, and orchards of oranges, walnuts and plums.

Grandmother came to live with us for a few years when I was ten. She shared a room with me, and I believe we both secretly longed for rambling conversations with lots of giggles, but she was the quiet type . . . like her granddaughter. When I could, I hid away in my room, sat on my bed and secretly drew 100's of pictures on white bond paper.

How does one become drawn in to being an artist? Does one's childhood need to have artistic advantages, tremendous talent, trips to the art museum, tons of praise and fostering at a young age? Although I was a well-loved child, those were not a part of my experience. However, my eye was unsuspectingly pulled in to beauty and design, and I came to seek more and more of it.   
 
Teenage influences:

• My dad's Arizona Highways magazine. I could see how much he loved reading it, and  I was pulled into its fantastic photography of desert canyons and deep azure skies. That's it. I was drawn in.
• My English teacher from high school, Mrs. Story, asked me to be the yearbook photographer in my senior year. I ran with it and loved every minute. 
• Junior year in high school was pivotal for me. I rode my bike every morning to the Humanities class that started an hour before regular classes. Alan Agol, a brilliant man and gifted teacher, opened my eyes and ears to music, art and thought. It was such an amazing bestowal of his own talents. For this, I am most grateful.

How we get to where we are in life is fascinating to me. A one step at a time process, one little step starts it all. The pressures and influences, the lucky breaks and the long, dry spells are the yin and yang of our development, our life long road that requires grace and love and passion. 

I write this article to those who have a passion for art, but think they have no great talent for it. I believe that art comes from out of our life experiences and personal relationships. For me, it is from the time that I shared my room with my grandmother and the view of the vast, expansive fields and orchards.

I woke up one day and from the depths of me came the words, "I am an artist." I just knew, and accepted it. If that happens to you, take a step, smile, and get ready for one crazy beautiful ride.

 
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An aside: I strongly recommend reading Timothy Egan's book, The Worst Hard Time: The Untold Story of Those Who Survived the Great American Dust Bowl.

I wish I had learned directly from my mother and father what their experiences were from their point of view. They never said a word about it.

While slogging away at photography school, my emphasis was on portraiture. I remember the expansive studios and tungsten and strobe lights where we photographed portraits and product shots, but I was more drawn to the natural light from windows and the outdoors. I was the champion film developer in the darkroom and helped out students whose sheet film got surge marks which were visible when when the negatives were printed on photo paper. I learned negative retouching from Kitty West to bring in a little extra cash.

Following graduating from Brooks, I went on to join in a partnership at a portrait studio that I co-owned and managed in Marin County for over twenty years. My experience taught me a huge appreciation for well executed photography and cinematography. It is certain that photography developed my eye for design, and even more so, enhanced my ability to see the nuances of various types of light and its simple truth. It's always been the light, 

Much appreciation to my mom and dad for believing in me and giving me my start.

Over the years I have lived a creative life, have taken art classes in high school, and graduated from Brooks Institute of Photography. But really, color didn’t play a tremendous role just yet.
 
When my daughters were in school, I took a few classes from The Secret Garden in Kenwood, and learned about tole painting on boxes. The moment I started moving the red paint around, painting those little red strawberries, I was hooked. Again, salivating. I painted a few boxes, lots of fruit and a Santa Claus. I was certain that I was destined for something much more significant and seriously went about the process of learning how to paint, and I wanted to paint well.
 
After taking many classes from SRJC Art Department and loving every minute of it, I sought out a painting instructor under whom I could study. Susan Sarback is a master painter and colorist who paints in the lineage of Monet. After ten years, I learned everything I needed to know about color from her. She also opened my eyes to the color theory of Josef Albers, and between the two, I became very competent in the mastery of color.
 
When I am painting I am actively looking into color, and it feeds me. Over time I have been curious how and why it speaks to me so deeply and wonder if I am just one lone, color geek. I doubt it, since it is a key ingredient in the field of design.
 
Here’s What Color Has Taught Me About Myself:

• Color is rich and luxurious. It adds luxury to my life. It speaks to my deepest core in a very relevant way that feeds and nourishes me. Imagine finding the thing that feeds you, and then ignoring it. Once you know what it is you cannot ignore it. I need the luxury and richness of color, and need to gaze into it.

 

• I really like puzzles, figuring things out. My paintings are big puzzles. A colleague looked at my notes for a painting and said it looked like a science experiment. My friend regarded a painting in process and commented to me that it looked like a puzzle. To complete the puzzle I need to find and implement a certain number of harmonious pieces that don’t have a preset design. It’s like Sudoku, in a way, except Sudoku is pre-designed. Color has taught me to be innovative and to enjoy investigating a mystery.

 

• For years I have painted landscape and still life paintings, putting color together in a certain alchemy and rhythm, laying color on top of color with my a painting knife. Many daubs of color have become an intricate way of life, full of rich color textures and the inspiration of light and shadow. Color, wrapped in the bundle of art and meaning, has given me an exceptionally unique, inspired way of life.

 

• I see a great deal of color. The most complex colors, the somber hues, are often in the shadows, and the most difficult to deconstruct. A shadow in the woods could be a magenta, viridian, yellow ochre, cobalt blue kind of mix, (you never really know, you have to see it). All a little tricky, because too many hues combined together can result in a muddy, uninteresting mess of a color. Color has given me a talent for seeing many components of coloration in a hue, and I see all of it in my every day life. Whether I am painting or strolling down a path or cooking, I am entertained and intellectually challenged by color.

 

• Color is potent. It grips me. In my modern work I wield color to articulate a singular feeling, emotion or impression. Color, thoughtfully and artfully crafted together, shapes a language, a collection of parts working and harmonizing and opposing one another.
  
  These parts, these blocks of color, speak deeply and eloquently in connection with the unspoken whisperings of my spirit and psyche. I speak my fears, and the color speaks hope and beauty. I speak my celebrations and the color declares rhapsodic bliss. Color has given me a language to creatively express visually what I feel in my heart.

We are all born with a unique blend of attributes, strengths and sensitivities. How fortunate we are when we can see the subtle beauty that lies beneath the obvious, and cultivate an inner oasis of innovation and creativity.

​I am in the middle of reading a small pile of books that either ignite a spark, or calm me down. I love that. Knowledge awaits! Here is a small list of my favorite non-fiction:
 
Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance, by Angela Duckworth
 
Change Your Thoughts – Change Your Life: Living the Wisdom of the Tao, by Dr. Wayne W. Dyer.

​Grit and Change Your Thoughts kind of balance each other out, OR they seem to oppose each other. I like the dynamic, and they each give me plenty to ponder upon.

​I have delved into writing this year. I'm just doing more of it, and trying to learn to make things interesting when I write a blog or newsletter. Being genuine is the most important thing to me, and while I’m learning, I know that I may be trying too hard.

 So, in regard to that thought, another book that I am currently reading, Bird by Bird – Some Instructions on Writing and Life, by Anne Lamott, is a great read right to my core. The first part addresses the kind of people that are “creatives” . If you are a creator, a maker, writer or artist you may find the first part of this book describing intimate parts of you and your psyche. It was jaw dropping for me.
 
I bought this book because I am interested in writing, so you have to realize that is where the book is headed, it's about writing. Even though I’m looking forward to continuing and studying further what the author has to say, I could read the beginning over and over again. It's just that I feel that I have just discovered an ally who utterly and completely descibes in words the familiar chatter in my mind. And now I know that there are many more people out there who operate similarly as I do. And Ann Lamott is really funny, dry, and really funny. I smile and giggle a lot while reading.
 
And I cannot leave out “the life changing magic of tidying up – the japanese art of decluttering and organizing, by marie kondo
Just buy it, and at least go through your bedroom closet. A real peace maker, here.
 
I read a number of fiction books in 2016, and these are the ones that really stood out for me:
 
Leaving Time, by Jodi Picoult
Mystery, humor, sadness, the habits of elephants in their natural habitat and otherwise, an easy read.

The Kindness of Strangers, by Mike McIntire – not fiction, but good stories. I read a number of travel books this year, but this was my favorite.
 
State of Wonder, by Ann Patchett
It was great traveling down the Amazon River with the protagonist. I was entertained, and learned a heap about biological research. It gave me lots to think about regarding our colliding lives on this planet as well.
 
I read a great many more books that didn’t quite warrant a recommendation from me, but I would re-read these three.
 
I read on a Kindle. After an episode with one of my retinas a couple years ago, I don’t see the way I used to, so I’m grateful for the magnification that I get. Still, I miss paperback books, the feel of the paper, being about to find a passage in my old, familiar way. BUT, hey, no complaining here, look at all that I can do, and still paint. I’m very blessed.
 
Would you do me a favor? I would love a book recommendation from you. Feel free to send a note if you have the time.

I have missed my regular painting schedule, that usually consists of painting every morning from 8 or 9 to 2:00. Following that I work at my desk, doing writing, marketing, and lately, setting up a store.

​That has consumed much of my painting time. I'm endeavoring to offer another way to collect my work. I have to admit, I'll be new that this sort of thing, yet I've had a lot of great advice, and I'm going for it.  Read more below . . .

​Today and yesterday I have been working on a new work, and I'm going about it differently than I have done before. It's less planned out, but I know how I want it to feel . . . deep and warm with somber hues that make the reds pop. The trick will be to make and keep the somber hues quiet and deep, but still rich and not muddy. I had a great painting teacher, a master colorist, Susan Sarback, so I don't take paint into the mud. It's still tricky.

That's the technical part. From the inspiration part, I want the painting to FEEL alive, rhythmic, and pulsing.

​You'll have to forgive the casual style that I'm showing the progress. The light and cropping are really poor, (iphone, winter light, ect.,).  In the end, I'll show the completed painting properly lit and edited so the lines are straight, and the colors clear and beguiling.

And I know the title, right from the get-go. It's "Heart Beat", oil on canvas, 48" x 36". Thank you for your interest! Come back in a few days and watch the progress.