It seems simple enough. Open a Word document, compose some sentences, let the computer check your spelling and grammar, then post, sending your words out into the world. And it would be JUST that easy except for finding a beautiful photo which visually matches the theme or feeling of the words and saying something meaningful or thought provoking or structured. And, for me, there’s always got to be some kind of silver lining, some small shiny pebble in the sidewalk that leans

I have a habit of rebooting my blog. By rebooting, I just mean, starting again after a long absence from posting. It’s such a strange thing when I really think about it, since writing has always been my inspiration, my passion, who I am at my core. So why do I run from the thing that makes me feel alive? It’s the same way with my art. I create in waves, usually when it’s tied to a deadline. So for the past month I’ve been working on orders for The White Crane Gallery and

I started blogging in the spring of 2005 and, for the next several years, blogging became this magical doorway to myself: my artwork, my vision for the person I wanted to become and the life I wanted to lead. I wrote as a way of figuring things out, a place to always lead me towards brightness and hope when the darkness pulled at my heels. It was a place I could combine imagery and words and share little pieces of myself with whomever happened to pass by. I had always been a

January often feels like a super-charged treadmill to me, stuck on a level going way too fast. I want to get on, but I just can’t get up enough speed to keep up at such a dizzying pace. If you’ve ever used a treadmill, you know you have to start slow, pace yourself for what’s to come, then you keep building until, suddenly, you’re going faster than you thought you could. And, when you’re able to surprise yourself, it feels pretty amazing. And even though looking around my dim