I choose sun over the fear of wrinkles.

My hands in wax, like a child, time traveling through my life, exhuming buried moments, striving forward boldly, I take advantage of this dislocation, my current place in life. Having enjoyed an extensive career designing learning opportunities to promote social justice and equity, I now shift my work to making art to convey that same struggle and hope.

I paint the seasons; seasons of the year, seasons of my life, seasons of humanity. Having done some work of the more literal shifts or time of year, I now paint a series of odes to mighty, influential women from the seasons of my life, and a series about “deluge,” a departure from the pursuit of beauty and perfection to a more raw, dark, aggressive portrayal of destruction and cruelty against the natural world.

That said, I have so much more in me. I can’t slow down. I continue sailing along, knowing life is short, behaving as if I have all the time in the world. I remain active—kayaking, hiking, practicing yoga, meditation, building networks of friends and fellow artists of all ages and generations, spending as much time on the coast of Maine or in my studio as I possibly can. I choose sun over the fear of wrinkles, activity over the sedentary, and stillness above worry. I wouldn’t trade my wisdom and learning for youth and agility. I am at peace and calm with this place in life.