Gardens Archives - Mary Ahern Artist

July 27, 2026

I’ve been doing more tutorials on how to use CapCut. For years I’ve edited with iMovie but found it limiting when working with vertical formats. So, on the recommendation of many friends, I decided to try this, new to me, app. I’m using the desktop version since editing on my iPhone isn’t appealing to me, although I’ve been using InShot for some social media posts. But I wanted to up my game a bit so I’m biting the bullet and working with the Pro Version of CapCut. It has too many TikTok-style effects that don’t interest me, but I’m coming up with ways to streamline my workflow around them. Here’s my first “Take a Minute Video”.

I began this daily journal in February, 2026 as I prepared for three exhibitions. My solo exhibition, “Portraits From My Garden” at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, on view from June 5 – September 15, 2026, and my work that was on view in the June, 2026 group show, “Raising Women’s Voices” in Chelsea, NYC.

My next solo exhibition titled “Centering in the Midst of Chaos” will be at the Ceres Gallery in Chelsea, New York City, November 3 – 28, 2026.

This Week in the Studio – July 20 – July 26, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up: Studio Glimpses: Week in Review
July 20-26, 2026
This week took me from Ceres Gallery to my own backyard planning table. I spent a day in Chelsea helping hang our next group show, then wandered back to Penn Station along the High Line, gathering ideas as I always do. At home, I used Art Placer to mock up the gallery walls for my November solo show, testing how the paintings might live together, such a relief for a visual learner like me. Dave and I took a break to celebrate 29 years of marriage, returning to the Northport Harbor dock where it all began. I got back to work composing my newsletter (and was reminded, happily, how much I actually accomplish when I stop staring at my unfinished To-Do list). And I kept working through the early stages of the installation itself, testing a table and draped fabric as one possible solution to the curtain problem, narrowing in on possible dimensions, and welcoming a batch of fabric swatches that opens up a whole new set of decisions to consider. Every step forward seems to bring more options rather than fewer, and I’m enjoying following where it leads.

I began this daily journal in February, 2026 as I prepared for three exhibitions. My solo exhibition, “Portraits From My Garden” at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026, and my work for the group show, “Raising Women’s Voices” in Chelsea, NYC which was on view until July 18, 2026.

My next solo exhibition titled “Centering in the Midst of Chaos” will be at the Ceres Gallery in Chelsea, New York City, November 3 – 28, 2026.

July 20 2026

Today I took the LIRR into the city (that’s what we call Manhattan in our neck of the woods) to help hang the next group show at the Ceres Gallery in Chelsea NYC. There are two large rooms with many artworks in very different sizes and styles that needed to be hung in such a way to complement each other. Four of us worked for many hours hanging the work and touching up the walls. After the art was all placed and hung, the lighting had to be carefully redirected to show each piece in the best possible light. Pun intended. For me, one of the treats to the hard work in the gallery is walking back to Penn Station to catch my train home, along the Highline, an elevated park built on a former transportation railway featuring gardens, art, and backed up with stunning views of the NYC Hudson Yards neighborhood. I always gather ideas for potential paintings, native plant selections, and installation projects for exhibitions or for garden design. It was a day of camaraderie with other artists and creative inspirations. I consider that a day well spent

I began this daily journal in February, 2026 as I prepared for three exhibitions. My solo exhibition, “Portraits From My Garden” at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, on view from June 5 – September 15, 2026, and my work in the June, 2026 group show, “Raising Women’s Voices” in Chelsea, NYC.

My next solo exhibition titled “Centering in the Midst of Chaos” will be at the Ceres Gallery in Chelsea, New York City, November 3 – 28, 2026.

This Week in the Studio – July 13 – July 19, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up: Studio Glimpses: Week in Review
July 13–17, 2026
The studio for me is wherever I create, whether standing at my easel, sitting at my desktop, or bending in my garden. My studio took several forms this week — the easel, the desk, my photo archives, and the garden, where I’m always out shooting new reference photos to add to the collection I draw my inspiration from for my artwork. Having just signed the “Cosmic Magnolia” painting, I turned my attention to the purple paph orchid painting, deliberately choosing a lighter and less dense color palette than before. One day was spent reworking the ABOUT pages on my website and Substack column, which had drifted out of sync with the work I’m actually making now. I finally joined a Techspressionism Zoom call after years of curiosity. This is a group of artists from around the world who work in many forms of digital art, something I began doing in the 1980s. I cleared some studio congestion by moving another batch of canvases to my rented climate-controlled storage unit. Then closed the week, starting to source vendors for sheer fabric printing, the material for the meditation space I’m building as part of my solo exhibition at the Ceres Gallery in November, titled “Centering in the Midst of Chaos”. Fabric samples should arrive by next week.

Click here to read all the week’s Studio Glimpses

I began this daily journal in February, 2026 as I prepared for three exhibitions. My solo exhibition, “Portraits From My Garden” at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026, and my work for the group show, “Raising Women’s Voices” in Chelsea, NYC which was on view until July 18, 2026.

My next solo exhibition titled “Centering in the Midst of Chaos” will be at the Ceres Gallery in Chelsea, New York City, November 3 – 28, 2026.

This Week in the Studio – July 6 – July 12, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up: The paph orchid painting is nearing completion, with the final stretch spent on subtle glazing and value shifts to balance the composition and push the background back without overworking it. Once signed, I moved into the wiring and documentation process I do for every finished piece, then turned to a fresh challenge: designing a garden-based installation for my November solo show at Ceres Gallery, Centering in the Midst of Chaos. After a greenhouse enclosure proved too large, I found a better-fitting alternative and started reworking its dimensions and fabric design in the studio — a fun departure into three dimensions. I also spent two days in an Akimbo workshop learning to use Claude as a true coworker for long-range project planning, which I’m excited to apply to coordinating the many moving parts of the exhibition. And in the garden, a daylily I’ve waited years to see bloomed for the first time this week.

Click here to read all the week’s Studio Glimpses

I began this daily journal in February, 2026 as I prepared for my solo exhibition, “Portraits From My Garden” at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026, my work for the group show, “Raising Women’s Voices” at the Ceres Gallery in from June 23. to July 18, 2026, and my upcoming November 2026, solo exhibition titled, “Centering in the Midst of Chaos” in Chelsea, New York City

July 6, 2026

Back at the easel after the holiday and making incremental changes as I believe that I’m moving towards a completion of the paph orchid painting. I pushed back the lower background using glazing of a transparent ultramarine blue to cover the Phalo Turquoise. Now I just have to balance the left bottom with the right. I also pushed back the center labellum and created more depth. The changes become more subtle as I near the end. It’s a critical time since I don’t want to overwork it but make slight tweaks to enhance the painting.

On another note, The adorable daylily opened. She’s been planted in my garden for a few years and this is the first time she’s strutting her stuff. I’m so happy!

I began this daily journal in February, 2026 as I prepared for my solo exhibition, “Portraits From My Garden” at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026, my work for the group show, “Hearing Women’s Voices” at the Ceres Gallery in from June 23. to July 18, 2026, and my upcoming November 2026, solo exhibition titled, “Centering in the Midst of Chaos” in Chelsea, New York City

This Week in the Studio – June 29-July 5, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up:

The week opened with a Substack post I published, “My Flowers Are…,” a list poem built around a repeated refrain, tracing the ground from botanical symbol to feminist manifesto. From there came days of balancing botanical accuracy against abstraction on the purple paph orchid on my easel, a pull between my love for intense color energy and years of close botanical study. One day was given over to an Akimbo workshop on setting up Claude as a co-worker, followed by five hours of learning a new video editing program to edit the Ceres Gallery opening footage I took on the day of the opening reception. Heat in the upper 90s kept garden work off the table but not garden pleasure. Daylilies began opening, each bloom living just a day and teaching a lesson on the ephemerality of life. Studio time each afternoon on the orchid continued moving the painting forward. A short lesson in hosta maintenance & architecture was posted since I’m always fascinated by how nature evolves with purpose. The week closed with a rescheduled barbecue for the holiday (heat and humidity won out), freeing up studio time to push into edge treatments on the orchid painting hard, soft, and merged. Enjoying a daily garden walk among the daylilies in pinks, corals, purples, light yellows, and white was, as always, inspirational.

Click here to read all the week’s Studio Glimpses

I began this daily journal in February, 2026 as I prepared for my solo exhibition, “Portraits From My Garden” at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026, my work for the group show, “Raising Women’s Voices” at the Ceres Gallery in from June 23. to July 18, 2026, and my upcoming November 2026, solo exhibition titled, “Centering in the Midst of Chaos” in Chelsea, New York City

July 4, 2026

Since the temperatures were in the high 90s with accompanying high humidity, my decided to reschedule his barbecue gathering until tomorrow. This left me with time to paint and stay in the air conditioning. The Paph orchid is coming along and I’m starting to work on some details at this point. Edges make a big difference. Hard edge? Soft edge? Merged colors edge? Each of these treatments make for completely different paintings. On this painting I’m either doing soft edges or merged color edges. The types of brushes I use makes a big difference in the look of the color merging.

I also spent some time walking through my garden and admiring the daylilies that are in bloom. I have some stray orange ones, but I usually transplant them outside of the deer fence and out of my line of sight. Orange doesn’t play a big part in my garden. Pinks, corals, purples, light yellows and white predominate.

I went to heavy on the Thalo on the bottom background. Have to wait until it dries to tone it down.

Midnight Orchid Daylily growning in my front garden.

I began this daily journal in February, 2026 as I prepared for my solo exhibition, “Portraits From My Garden” at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026, my work for the group show, “Hearing Women’s Voices” at the Ceres Gallery in from June 23. to July 18, 2026, and my upcoming November 2026, solo exhibition titled, “Centering in the Midst of Chaos” in Chelsea, New York City

July 3, 2026

I put in some good studio time today on the Paph Orchid. There are some days you are there in the studio working and nothing seems to be going right, nothing has moved the painting nearer to the day you sign it. There are other days, when you put in the same amount of time and you’ve leapt forward towards a vision. Today was one of those days.

On another note, I wanted to mention something about my large Hostas. If you look closely at the center there is an accumulation of garden debris in the center of the large leaf. If you don’t help the plant, and clean that channel you might have a problem. The architecture of this leaf allows the rain to roll towards the center and flow down into a channel on the stem, thereby delivering the water to the base of the plant and the root system. With the opening to the leaf channel clogged with debris, the water doesn’t follow this path, and the plant doesn’t benefit from the adaptations it has developed towards survival. I find it personally very satisfying to help the Hostas breathe and survive.

I began this daily journal in February, 2026 as I prepared for my solo exhibition, “Portraits From My Garden” at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026, my work for the group show, “Hearing Women’s Voices” at the Ceres Gallery in from June 23. to July 18, 2026, and my upcoming November 2026, solo exhibition titled, “Centering in the Midst of Chaos” in Chelsea, New York City

This Week in the Studio – June 22-28, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up:

A full week, anchored by two trips into the city for the Ceres Gallery group show, Raising Women’s Voices — first to hang it, then to celebrate it at Thursday’s opening reception, where rich conversations with visitors made the long commute more than worthwhile. Back in the studio, a new orchid painting is underway: composition mapped digitally, grid transferred to canvas with pastel, and the first thin washes of oil paint now in place. A small detour with a Mr. Clean eraser solved a pastel-too-dark mishap. Meanwhile, the eternal tightrope between botanical accuracy and abstraction remains the defining creative tension. Off the canvas, a switch from iMovie to CapCut opens new possibilities for quiet, vertical video — a natural fit for the Take a Minute series on YouTube.

Click here to read all the week’s Studio Glimpses

I began this daily journal in February, 2026 as I prepared for my solo exhibition, “Portraits From My Garden” at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026, my work for the group show, “Raising Women’s Voices” at the Ceres Gallery in from June 23. to July 18, 2026, and my upcoming November 2026, solo exhibition titled, “Centering in the Midst of Chaos” in Chelsea, New York City

June 26, 2026

I shoot a lot of video and decided that I needed to work with a different editor than iMovie, which I’ve been using for years. That program can’t cleanly and successfully produce vertical videos, since it’s standardized on the horizontal aspect ratio, which doesn’t work for streaming & reels on social media. I downloaded CapCut and spent the day watching online tutorials. There are so many more features that I’ll probably never use since I’m not interested in doing bouncy TikTok style work. Quiet and serene is more my speed. I have a playlist on my YouTube Channel titled, Take a Minute Videos. These are, of course, one-minute videos. They offer to you the opportunity to calmly look closely at either something in nature or a painting up close. I find that we are living in a much more frantic world than I grew up in where I had many hours to spend looking at clouds floating like cotton candy, gently across the sky or the intricacies of the structure and texture of a leaf and how it differs from front to back. That slower time gave me an appreciation for minute details that I feel so many people no longer take the time observe in our hyped-up, fast-moving, frenetic culture. My videos offer an opportunity to just “Take a Minute” to slow down and relax.

Early in the morning, the oscilating sprinkler, set on a timer, went on automatically. Sitting having my coffee and looking out at the sunshine streaming through the droplets of water was mesmerizing. I had to tear myself away from the calmness I was experiencing in order to capture this video to share. Nothing however can compare with the original. I urge you to look around where you are and see what absorbs your visual interest.. I’m sure you’ll find something unexpected.

I began this daily journal in February, 2026 as I prepared for my solo exhibition at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026, my work for the group show at the Ceres Gallery in from June 23. to July 18, 2026, and my upcoming November 2026, solo exhibition in Chelsea, New York City

This Week in the Studio – June 15-21, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up:

The magnolia is signed — abandoned, as I prefer to say, because a painting is never truly finished. While I was still working on it though, I grabbed a quick studio video, painting clothes and all, it was impromptu and completely unplanned. I sometimes rotate the canvas to get a comfortable angle for the edges, and you can see that on the video on my YouTube Channel. Now the next canvas is picked, the flower is being chosen, and I’m deep in my photo archive and Photoshop — chugging on all cylinders with the excitement of starting a new painting. And over at Sanctuary Magazine, Myrna Haskell wrote beautifully about the Locust Grove show. A good week.

Click here to read all the week’s Studio Glimpses

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepared for my June-September 2026 solo exhibition at the Locust Grove Historical Site in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November Solo exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

June 16, 2026

There is no “completion” of a painting for me. By making smaller and smaller incremental changes, I begin to realize that I’m experiencing an asymptote. If a person walks halfway across a room each day, when will he reach the other side? They won’t. Just because the increments are smaller, it doesn’t mean they can reach the other side if they can only go halfway. Instead of saying I’ve finished it, I call this abandoning a painting. There are times I go back sometime later, and that might include years later, to work on the piece again. But right now, I’m spending many hours and making little gain so I’m ready to think about signing this magnolia and beginning my next one.

In my garden I plant very few plants with prickly edges. I want soft, friendly plants instead. But this Mahonia japonica ‘Bealei’ was a gift from my professor, Dr. Richard Iverson when I was studying horticulture for my degree decades ago. This plant blooms with yellow flowers in late winter and once fertilized they turn into these luscious berries. Once day this summer, the birds will all agree that the berries have ripened with there will be a cacophony of birds singing and enjoying their feast. One year I was lucky enough to spend an afternoon sitting on the bench in the garden in the midst of the celebration. It was an unforgettable memory!

I began this daily journal in February, 2026 as I prepared for my solo exhibition at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026, my work for the group show at the Ceres Gallery in June 2026, and my upcoming November 2026, solo exhibition in Chelsea, New York City

This Week in the Studio – June 8-14, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up:

After the whirlwind of the Locust Grove opening, this week was about finding my way back to the rhythms that sustain me. Time in the studio, time in the garden, and time with the ideas that feed both. The magnolia painting took another significant turn. I overpainted much of the blue cloud sky, and the effect was immediate — the petals unified, the harsh edges softened, the color transitions gentled into something warmer. Now the painting feels like it’s telling me what it wants to become rather than resisting me, and I’m genuinely excited to follow it there this coming week.

A quieter joy this week: discovering my name in the Acknowledgements of Seth Godin’s This Is Strategy. I’ve studied Seth’s work for decades taking his workshops and reading his books. To have contributed in some small way to this one is an honor I didn’t see coming.

The garden is at peak privacy right now. The massive Rhododendron roseums are in full, exuberant bloom all along the property edges. I moved so many of them over the years and I think by now they’ve finally landed exactly where they belong.

Also, this week: a reminder that good tools deserve good care. In my brush-cleaning ritual after each day of painting I use Gamsol, Murphy’s Oil Soap, Master’s Brush Cleaner along with quite a bit of scrubbing keeps brushes I’ve owned for decades still performing beautifully. You take care of your tools, and they take care of you.

Click here to read all the week’s Studio Glimpses

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepared for my June-September 2026 solo exhibition at the Locust Grove Historical Site in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November Solo exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

June 13, 2026

I did another big transition in the direction for the magnolia painting. I overpainted most of the blue cloud sky. I think this unified the petals of the flower better. I was bothered by the harsh edges and color transitions. Now that I’ve softened all of the I’m liking what this painting is trying to become. I like the warm glows of the color range. I can’t wait to see what the painting is trying to say this week in the studio.

In the garden the huge Rhododendron roseums are in full bloom. They edge so much of the property, shielding the garden from the street and providing privacy. Over the years, I’ve moved so many of them into different places in the garden. I wouldn’t have the strength anymore to dig them up, drag them, and replant them, but I think they are by now just where they should be.

This is a daily journal of my solo exhibition at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026, my work in the group show at the Ceres Gallery in June, and my upcoming November solo exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

June 11, 2026

An important thing I do every day is to clean my brushes properly. You have to take care of your tools and they take care of you, so they say. (Whoever THEY are) First I clean them in Gamsol which is a solvent. Then in the utility sink, I poke them into a container with Murphy’s oil soap, scrape them on the plastic scrubber in the sink, do it again on the smaller scrubber, then dip them again and rub them into the palm of my hand to insure that no pigment is still coming off the bristles, then rub them in Master’s soap and rinse in clean water. Lay them on paper towels to dry. Some of my brushes I’ve had for decades because I take good care of them. They deserve the attention.

I like the ritual of cleaning my brushes. Caring for them, feels like a Thank You to them for their part in helping me to make art.

This closeup of the flowers on my *Kalmia latifolia,* AKA, Mountain Laurel shows the interior architecture of the how the flowers seduce assistance in fertilization. The center color markings indicate to the pollinator where to go inside the flower to find what they’re looking for. When it does, the stamens pop like a spring and spray them with pollen. This is then deposited on the next flowers they visit. Nature is endlessly fascinating isn’t it!

This is a daily journal of my solo exhibition at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026, my work in the group show at the Ceres Gallery in June, and my upcoming November solo exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

June 10, 2026

This week, I’m getting back in the studio a bit after prepping the artwork for the Locust Grove solo exhibition, bubble wrapping them, loading them into the car, and then driving a 5-hour round trip last week was tiring. But this week, prepping 50 prints in different sizes and 100 note cards for their gift shop, then driving back again to Poughkeepsie, staying overnight, setting up for the Opening Reception on Sunday, talking to people for hours about my work, and then driving back to Long Island, was a different kind of tired. Now that the planning and producing the Locust Grove solo exhibition is behind me, I’m trying to return to my normal life rhythm. I spent a few hours in the studio working on the magnolia painting and letting it travel to what it wants to become. I also found that spending time looking at my garden helped settle me down considerably. I hope to get my groove back soon.

I’m letting this magnolia painting experiment with what it ultimately wants to be. I don’t think she’s made her mind up yet.

This is the view from the balcony outside my studio. I’ve been working and designing and redesigning this garden since 1989. I have almost no all day sun and with the loss of about 7 large oaks since Hurricane Sandy, I now have dappled, rather than dense shade.

This is a daily journal of my solo exhibition at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026, my work in the group show at the Ceres Gallery in June, and my upcoming November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

June 9, 2026

The Locust Grove show opened yesterday. These two oil paintings are at the entrance to the exhibition. On the left is “Pay Attention Here – Orange Hibiscus and on the other wall is, “Worth the Wait – Tree Peony”. Both are oil paintings.

Off my studio is a balcony and looking down from there I can see the magnificent plants now blooming in the garden. From a distance, you don’t get the scale of how large these shrubs are but I think they make an interesting mosaic. The Kalmia latifolia, are the white flowers, Rhododendron rosebay are the pink shrubs, and the purple shrub is Calycanthus x. Aphrodite which I planted over a decade ago. All these flowering shrubs provide privacy from the road.

This is a daily journal of my solo exhibition at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026, my work in the group show at the Ceres Gallery in June, and my upcoming November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

This Week in the Studio – June 1 – 7, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up:

This week culminated in the opening reception of Portraits From My Garden, my solo exhibition at Locust Grove Historic Site in Poughkeepsie, where 17 of my original paintings and drawings now hang through September 15th. The days leading up to Sunday’s reception were a full production — prepping prints and note cards for the venue’s gift shop, shopping for wine and refreshments at Costco, and driving upstate to get everything in place. At the opening reception, I had the pleasure of spending time with Myrna Haskell, founder of Sanctuary Magazine, for a rich conversation about women in the arts. Hubby Dave and I also carved out time to visit Hyde Park and the Walled Garden at Bellefield, designed by landscape architect Beatrix Farrand — a perfect counterpoint to all the logistics. Back in the studio and garden, the magnolia painting continued to evolve as I worked to blur edges and dissolve boundaries, while the Mountain Laurels and a late-blooming Chinzan azalea kept reminding me why I paint what I paint.

Click here to read all the week’s Studio Glimpses

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

June 7, 2026

The Opening Reception of my solo, Locust Manor Show, titled “Portraits From My Gardens” was held from 1-3pm. Having the opportunity to share 17 of my original paintings and drawings in one place is such an amazing experience. As I look at them hanging together on the walls, I remember making each piece and in what order I created them. I also remember what I was trying to achieve with each since I always give myself a challenge to try something new, whether it’s color, brushwork, size, layering or subject matter. At receptions I always meet engaged people who are interested in what, why and how I do what I do. Answering, always gives me an opportunity to clarify my own thinking. It’s a win-win. Myrna Haskell, founder and owner of Sanctuary Magazine stopped by and we had wonderful discussions about women in the arts and healing fields. We discussed her work in establishing and building a publication focused on a broad range of the Health and Wellness industries in New York State. My show at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie will be on display daily until September 15, 2026.

The hanging of this show at Locust Grove iis difficult to photograph, but it is perfect for viewing in person.

Myrna Haskell, on the left, is the founder and owner of **Sanctuary Magazine** which has been “**Empowering and Inspiring Women with Compelling Content**” for many years! Subscribe to Sanctuary here!

We also visited the Walled Garden at Bellefield which was designed by the formidable landscape architect, Beatrix Farrand. Many of the peonies were still in bloom for me and other to enjoy.

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts for my solo exhibition at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026 and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

June 6, 2026

We drove to Poughkeepsie today to spend a bit of time sightseeing. We visited the FDR Hyde Park home presented now by the National Park Service. I have recently read a few books about FDR, his wife Eleanor, a real powerhouse in her own right, Winston Churchill and their collaboration during the successful overthrow of the fascists during WWII. His introduction of the basic safety net addressing social security, medical care, unemployment insurance, bringing working jobs back to the middle class after the great depression of the 1930s and so much more. As a child in elementary school in Brooklyn NY, I was never made aware that he governed from a wheelchair due to polio. This would have made him even more dramatic to so many of us had they not censored the news about him. He, with his wife, Eleanor were an amazing powerhouse couple.

This is a bird’s eye view of the FDR Hyde Park home that I captured from their website. We toured the building where he was born and where he grew up. And also, where he lived as he worked on recovering as best as possible from polio.

Betrix Ferrand is a legend in the garden design world. I’ve heard of her work for years. It was great to see at least one of her gardens.

Whenever I can stop in my meandering to spend time with a flower or two, it makes me slow down and relish the time I can spent seeing and contemplating the resilience of life.

We also visited the Walled Garden at Bellefield which was designed by the formidable landscape architect, Beatrix Farrand. Many of the peonies were still in bloom for me and other to enjoy.

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts for my solo exhibition at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026 and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

June 4, 2026

Getting ready for an opening reception for your solo show, isn’t all about making the art, packing the art, hanging the art. Shaking hands and smiling. It’s about going to the stores to shop. You need drinks, both alcoholic and non. White and Clear. Munchies. Since Covid this has been tricky. I used to put out cheese, crackers, grapes and other finger food. Now people are a bit more finicky so at times I bring individually wrapped fun food. So today I hit Costco and Bottles N Cases. Because of the season I got Chardonnay and Rosé instead of a white wine and a red. Then comes the bowls, cups, napkins, plates, and other miscellaneous items we’ll need to welcome people when they show up to see my artwork. It’s an uneasy time since you never know how many people to expect. Do I have enough glasses? Enough wine? Enough munchies? This has nothing to do with, “Will people come to see the work I spend many months creating”. It’s a bit of an out of body experience changing from studio artist to event planner.

How do you know how much and what to buy when you are having an opening reception. You don’t. So you just do the best you can. Isn’t that all any of us can do!

Walking in my garden and seeing this gorgeous peony finally calmed me down and all the stress of the shopping and planning disappeared. Flowers and gardens tend to do that for me.

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts for my solo exhibition at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026 and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

June 3, 2026

There are days when you realized you’ve worked so hard every day for so long, that you just need to step back and do something different. Today was one of those days. I worked in the garden for over three hours, hauling hoses and setting up sprinklers and timing devices. I didn’t manage to finish everything before my body told me to stop but I made a good dent in the project. While immersed in the garden, I was happily surrounded by the full bloom of the native Mountain Laurels in my garden. For years they failed to thrive but then I finally had nozzles installed throughout the garden and between the fertilizer and the irrigation, they’re thriving again. They are better than they’ve been since I bought the property in 1989. I’m so very pleased that I was able to bring them back from the brink. One of the things I love about the structure of the individual flower, is how the stamens arc from the center to push the petals outwards forming little arcs. If you look closely at this Take A Minute Video I put on my YouTube Channel, you can see the fascinating architecture of these tiny flowers.

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts for my solo exhibition at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026 and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

June 2, 2026

Spent hours this morning weeding, pruning and centering myself in the garden today. As tired, sweaty and dirty I was afterwards, I felt a calmness I haven’t felt in days. The garden does that for me. The Kalmia latifolia (AKA Mountain Laurels) are in full bloom right now and I’m in awe of their majesty. They are thriving in the garden with the Holly Tone and irrigation I’m giving them. With care, I’ve brought so many of these native shrubs back from oblivion. In the studio, I continued to blur the edges of the magnolia painting. I’m trying to bring together visually, the clarity of the magnolia with a hint of the complex universe we all survive in together.

Working in the studio so often brings me surprises once I stop thinking and just let the painting guide me.

The little Buddha statue seems also contented to be sitting in the middle of this phenomenal display by nature.

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts for my solo exhibition at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026 and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

June 1, 2026

Back at the easel today while recovering from my 5 hour round trip to Poughkeepsie to deliver my artwork to my Locust Grove solo exhibition, “Portraits From My Garden.” We’ll be driving back this weekend for the Opening Reception. But today I spent time recovering and healing in my garden. The Chinzan azalea is in bloom. This Satsuki Hybrid Azalea is a dwarf azalea gets to be about, 18-24 inches in height with a spread of maybe 3 feet. It’s one of the latest in the season to strut her stuff in my garden. I’ve had Rhodi’s in bloom since late February. Every few days another surprise opens and lights up different parts of my garden brightening my vision and my mood. I like the Chinzan, since she has tiny shiny leaves which gives it multi-season interest in my opinion. Shade gardens are all about subtlety and texture.

In the studio, I’ve been adventurous with my brushwork and colors. At this point, the painting has taken over all the decision making from me. That’s appropriate since while I was painting today, I was listening to the audio book, Zen in the Art of Archery, a book by German philosophy professor Eugen Herrigel. I definitely got into the zone on this one today.

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts for my solo exhibition at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026 and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

This Week in the Studio – May 25-May 31, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up: This week was consumed by one enormous task: delivering 17 paintings to Locust Manor Historic Site in Poughkeepsie for my solo exhibition, Portraits From My Garden. The logistics were real — organizing everything remotely from Long Island, using Art Placer to virtually map the walls, creating price lists and artwork labels, and triple-checking every detail before the work left my hands. On Sunday, Dave and I made the 2½-hour drive up the Taconic, got everything inside safely, toured the space, and made it home before dark. The studio looks bare now, and I’ll miss the work while it’s gone — a little like when your kids move out.

In between the packing and paperwork, the magnolia painting took a significant turn: I broke the edges, merged background and foreground, and finally felt the painting come to life. And the garden kept calling me back to center — Mountain Laurels at peak bloom, a Peruvian Daffodil unfurling on the deck, Itoh peonies at the nursery that I heroically did not buy.

Click here to read all the week’s Studio Glimpses

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

May 29, 2026

Spent the day taking artwork out of storage and off the walls, checking for dust and then bubble wrapping them. I get my bubble wrap bags at Uline and my large rubber bands on Amazon. It makes packing much easier than using rolls of bubble wrap. I staged everything outside my studio in the hallway until it got to crowded and then made piles elsewhere. To recover from the stress, I did what I always do, I went for a walk in my garden. The Kalmia latifolia, AKA Mountain Laurels are at peak bloom this week. They are native to my area and have flourished since I set up an irritgation system in the garden. They had been suffering from drought. Once I spent some time walking around, looking and capturing images I felt renewed again. The stress of the day left me and I recovered my center.

A lot of organization goes into documenting, planning, wrapping, and transporting the artwork. It is incredibly easy to get the title wrong or the price, or have it damaged in some way. Shows are a very stressful time for an artist.

Walking throughout my garden is always a way for me to relax and center myself. Every single day, there is some new surprise the garden shares with me. Some of them better than others. The mountain laurels are spectucular this year and this is the week they’re strutting their stuff.

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my Solo exhibition at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026 and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

May 28, 2026

I took a completely new direction in my magnolia painting. I decided to break the edges and merge the background and foreground, rather than delineating hard edge barriers. I also lightened the lower background colors and the large petal areas. It’s a major change that I think will finally bring this painting to life for me.

For hours I worked on creating the labels for each of the artworks I’m delivering to my Poughkeepsie show on Sunday. There is a lot of documentation needed in order for the curator at Locust Manor to have all the correct information for each piece. The title, size, medium, and price. It has to match the price lists correctly that I made yesterday. Details matter.

To relax, I spent time looking at the Hymenocallis festalis, AKA Peruvian Daffodil blooming in one of my deck containers. It’s a tropical bulb that I’m able to find each year in the early spring in Costco of all places. I have to rummage through their racks in order to find these exquisite bulbs but well worth the trouble. All the stress melted away from my body and mind when I spent time looking closely at the intricate architecture of these amazing blooms.

I took a radical step and changed the direction of where this painting was heading. But who was directing the change, the painting itself or me?

Getting all the details right and each artwork labeled with the correct information is one of the many jobs of preparing for a solo exhibition.

*Hymenocallis festalis*, AKA **Peruvian Daffodil**

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my Solo exhibition at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026 and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

May 27, 2026

Took a break from getting ready for delivering the art to the Locust Grove site in Poughkeepsie this weekend and went to the wholesale nursery to see what’s new. The Itoh peonies were in bloom and I managed not to buy one. I’m so proud of myself for not succumbing to its gorgeous seduction. I can see why the pollinators can’t resist. Being around all these flowers is so calming for me. They are such ephemeral miracles. After my excursion, I worked on paperwork all afternoon for the show. Getting all the little details right takes so much concentration. Glad I’m an organized person in general or this would have taken 15 times as long. Created a price list which can be printed for handout at the show or distributed as a pdf file. Double and triple checked the details & sent it off to the curator. Moments later, of course, I found an error. Isn’t that always the way!

Itoh Peonies are a cross between herbaceous and tree peonies.

Any time I want to relax and renew, I head out to a garden, my own or someone elses. This is one of the wholesale nurseries I frequent.

Getting all the little details right is so very time consuming but so very necessary when I’m doing a solo exhibition.

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my Solo exhibition at Locust Grove in Poughkeepsie, NY, from June 5 – September 15, 2026 and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

This Week in the Studio – May 18-May 24, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up: Two paintings held my attention this week — and they couldn’t be more different in their demands. The dahlia is complete, and I made a one-minute video tracing its transformation from start to finish, a practice rooted in years of daily studio documentation. Meanwhile, the magnolia is finding its own direction: I let go of the reference photo entirely and gave myself permission to just play with color — a genuine challenge for someone as procedural as I am. A cloud-like treatment on some petals cracked open the composition in a way I hadn’t expected.

Next week, I’ll be shifting gears to pack for my solo exhibition at Locust Manor Historic Site in Poughkeepsie — a complicated, all-day undertaking that requires knowing the space, the traffic flow, and exactly which paintings will live well together on those walls.

Click here to read all the week’s Studio Glimpses

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

May 22, 2026

I took a drastic leap on this magnolia painting today. I decided to make some of the petals with a cloud-like feeling just to see if I would like it. It opened up the hermetic feel of the composition when I did it. It was a brave leap for me, but I totally enjoyed the freedom to paint something I wanted to, rather than paint something I thought someone else might want me to.

In my garden, I place a lot of round things. This one is a bird feeder that I don’t use to feed birds. I just like the sculptural structure in the middle of this garden bed. I planted yellow hostas to brighten up the shade.

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

May 21, 2026

I’m no longer looking at the original photo of the magnolia for inspiration as I paint. I’ve decided to just experiment with color and play to see what this painting wants to be. Since I’m a very procedural person, this isn’t easy for me to accomplish. But, since it’s not easy, I decided I needed the challenge to just keep trying different ideas with color. I’m surely not there yet, but I’m thoroughly enjoying the process.

Since the weather went from 90 degrees over the last few day, we had rain and now the temps are in the 60s again. It’s playing havoc with some of my flowering shrubs. This beautiful dwarf azalea is a Koromo shikibu Purple Spider. People are usually surprised to hear that it’s a rhododendron. All azaleas are rhododendrons, but not all rhododendrons are azaleas.

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

May 19, 2026

On this unseasonally hot, 90 degree day, I hosted a garden tour for some clubs. Fortunately, most of my garden is in dappled shade so it was a little bit of a relief while I walked around all day with the visitors. I love sharing my garden and also love all the questions people ask that cover a wide range of interests. From, what is that flower, to what size is the garden, to when and how did you start gardening to where did you learn? I enjoy sharing the philosophy that is the underpinning of how I designed decades ago and how it’s evolved. I also love to talk about how the garden has influenced my life and my art. There is a seamlessness between the garden and the studio for me.

I’ve created woodland walks throughout the garden that all season light up at different times of day and the month.

One of my friend, Sue, took this photo of me and then sent it to me. I so enjoyed showing her my garden and so often she has come to my art exhibitions to see the outcome as well. Now, that’s a friend!

Back in the studio in the afternoon, I began again to experiment on this magnolia painting. It’s been a great day inside and out.

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

May 18, 2026

I guess I must like this dahlia. I just realized that a while back, I’d done a colored pencil piece of the original dahlia shown below. It was sitting on the bookshelf in my studio all this time. It’s a little 4 ½ inch square drawing, double matted and framed to 10”. It’s listed on my website here. In looking at these two works together, I realize how much more free I am when I work big. With a small piece, I sit at the drafting table and work mostly with my wrist with tiny, pointed brushes or colored pencils. For oil paintings, I work standing up and paint from my shoulder and elbow with fan brushes. These different ways of working lead me to create very different styles of work. I love that!

Two different mediums, techniques and sizes. Very different outcomes. I’ll bet if I did it again, it would be different than both.

This is the original photo I took of this dahlia, and have enjoyed the many hours of being inspired by it.

This little colored pencil drawing is double-matted and in a 10″ frame. You can see it on my website here.

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

This Week in the Studio – May 11-May 17, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up:I declared the dahlia oil paint is finished, really finished this time. After I stepped away the first time, I saw different possibilities the longer I saw it out of the corner of my eye and put it back on the easel. I added and subtracted while also defining areas and now had a much better appreciation of the final version. I was struck by how far the painting had traveled from its original inspiration. The magnolia painting is next, and I’m already exploring more dramatic color possibilities on the computer and in paint. Meanwhile, I completed all the steps I do to document a painting. I add an index # that follows it throughout its existence, and I create a title. I call this “productizing” a painting for readying it for my database, website, ecommerce, application for exhibitions, and adding it to my website. I also make sure the edges are painted to show the workflow pattern, I oil out the surface for a unified sheen. I also document the number of hours I worked each day on the piece, and what pigments I used. Wiring the painting for hanging is critical.

The garden offered its own rewards this week. Some of my favorite azaleas were in full bloom like the Apple Blossom azaleas in the woodland garden in tappled shade. I offered a garden tour to my garden club members to see the garden at its peak. It’s a busy season that doesn’t wait for someone to have free time, so I also made a second visit to see the Tree Peonies at Bayard Cutting Arboretum, catching their fleeting peak. A bike ride on the weekend at Jones Beach on the first hot day of the year reminded me why staying fit matters. Being an artist for me entails a lot of physical work, like standing, lifting, and stretching. Studio life requires being physically fit, but so does the garden. Together, they are colluding to keep me physically and mentally active and healthy.

Click here to read all the week’s Studio Glimpses

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

May 17, 2026

I decided to enjoy the first hot day of the year by taking my first bike ride of the season at Jones Beach. Each year, I worry that I’ll be too fearful to ride, but this is not that year. Riding isn’t the difficult part of riding a bike. Stopping & starting, getting on and getting off are the most vulnerable actions in my opinion. As I always say, so far, so good. Staying fit is so important to my studio practice because my work involves considerable standing, lifting, and stretching every day.

In the garden, one of my favorite azaleas is in bloom, the Apple Blossom Azalea. The buds are a lovely pink, and the flowers open with white petals and a delicate pink edging. To me, it’s a very girlie plant. I have a few of them in bloom at the moment around my woodland garden. The amount of flowering on each of the shrubs differs depending on the amount of sunshine the plant gets during the day, although all of them do flower in dappled shade.

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

May 16, 2026

Now that I’ve finished painting the dahlia, I’ve returned to the magnolia painting I started a few weeks ago. I’ve decided not to use all the soft pastels I had originally intended, but to potentially make it more dramatic. At this stage, I’m playing around with color possibilities on my computer and also in actual paint without having made any decisions

Hubby Dave and I took a break and went to the Bayard Cutting Arboretum to see the Tree Peonies. Last week when I was there only a few flowers were open. Now, we caught it in full bloom. Tree Peonies are very delicate and if it rains, or there is another major weather event, like too much sun they wilt immediately. Since they’re so precious, the grounds crew sets up a tent to protect them from damage for the short time they’re in bloom. We so much appreciated their efforts.

Not having a specific concept for the outcome I want for this painting presents a different kind of challenge. When I was doing botanical illustration, I knew I exactly what I wanted the finished piece to look like. Both these approaches are difficult but different.

This reminds me of the years of art festivals we did in six different states. Setting up our booth and taking it down each day was quite an adventure for us.

Last week, when I came to see the Tree Peonies, there were only two or so in bloom. What a difference a week made!

This magnificent turkey was carefully protecting his harem. Each time we moved closer to them, he puffed up considerably and clucked some warning sounds. Fascinating experience for us to stumble upon.

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

May 11, 2026

I’m back working on the dahlia painting again. Now, I’m working on the colors and textures on the bottom of the painting, trying to make it darker with more color contrast. Working on not creating muddy colors, which can be tricky. I want the clearer, brighter colors in the center and then moderating them with each outward layer of petals until they merge with the background.

A few years ago, I moved a very little bright pink azalea to the end of the driveway. I was designing the garden to have non-competing colors during bloom times. Now, she’s flourishing and is giving new meaning to the term, curbside appeal.

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

This Week in the Studio – May 4-May 10, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up: Spring pulled me in two directions this week — canvas and garden both demanding attention. I returned to a magnolia painting after a few weeks away, revisiting my photo database and rethinking the color palette; the lemon greens showing up everywhere in new spring foliage have made their way into the petals. The dahlia painting, which I thought was finished, came back onto the easel. I worked through some compositional adjustments using pastel, exploring ways to create a rounder, more balanced flower. A mid-week supply run to Dick Blick, 45 minutes each way, $250 later, was a good reminder that painting is an investment in every sense.

Outside the studio, a visit to Bayard Cutting Arboretum to see the tree peonies left me with a camera full of photos and a new painting idea forming. At home, Hubby Dave heroically made about 20 trips up the stairs from the plant room to bring my overwintered plants back out to the deck, where my massive container-planting project finally got underway.

Click here to read all the week’s Studio Glimpses

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

May 10, 2026

Now that the weather forecast looks good, I decided it was time to bring the plants out of my plant room, where I’ve been overwintering them since last September. I had help. Hubby Dave made about 20 trips up the stairs carrying the small pots. He said he officially doesn’t need a StairMaster now. It would have taken me a week if I had to do it by myself, so I was so very grateful for his offer of assistance. Earlier this month, I had the deck containers brought out from the garage and placed on the deck in preparation for this day. The project took many hours of planning the right plants for each container. I chose the colors, the heights, and the growth habits of each plant before planting them together. It is a very creative project each year.

These are some of the containers that I overwintered in my garage.

After overwintering these in my plant room I now have to plan what goes into each container.

This is the beginning of the growing season for my deck plantings. Untold hours have gone into the labor of love by caring for them all winter, dividing and propagating them, and now to grow them all season on our deck. What fun!

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

May 8, 2026

I decided, after spending time looking at this painting of the dahlia that I had already signed, I wanted to add some additional petals to create additional balance to the composition. I worked on some possibilities using pastel to outline different options. Since the paint was dry, I just used a moist paper towel to erase any lines I didn’t want to keep.

Before I went to work in the studio, I went with my friend to the Bayard Cutting Arboretum to see the tree peonies in bloom. Turns out, they’ll be in peak bloom in two weeks, so I’ll happily have an excuse to go back. But one of the plants was blooming, and I have many photos of this gorgeous flower. I’m seeing a painting in my future!

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

May 7, 2026

There are some days that make you sad each year. So what I do is to invite people to come to see my garden, to share in the joy it delivers each year, the first week in May. There have been rhododendrons in bloom since the beginning of March, but this week is always spectacular. Such beauty is meant to be shared. Gardens bring down the stress in people’s lives. A perfect remedy for sad days.

This is a view when you enter the front garden just as you pass the deck.

Looking at the house from the garden, towards the deck. One of my aluminum prints is hanging on my deck.

When you arrive in my driveway, this is the view at this time of year.

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

May 6, 2026

I didn’t get much done in the studio today since the garden is calling for my attention right now. While the magnolia painting is drying, I put the dahlia painting back on the easel since I saw a few things that began to bother me. I’m trying to figure out what I can do to reduce the petals in the 4 corners from being too prominent. I want the entire flower to have a more round composition, but the dominance of some of the corner petals is causing the composition to be more square. Often, it takes quite a bit of time to see areas of artwork that need some attention, even if you’ve already signed the piece.

In the garden, I potted up some canna rhizomes and printed labels for my garden club sale. Every year, we dig up plants from our gardens, pot them up, and sell them to other gardeners in the community. This helps to fund the club’s many community programs throughout the year.

After spending time with my dahlia painting off the easel, but in my vision daily, I see some places I’d like to make some alterations. Glad I keep a journal and know all the different paint pigments I used to make the original work. It will make the touch-ups much easier for me.

This is how my canna looks by mid-summer. I donated rhizomes of this beauty to my garden club plant sale. They’ll make some smart gardeners very happy!

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

May 5, 2026

Ever feel like you’re pulled in many directions at once? Things you want to do. How you want to spend your time? This is my time of the year for a target-rich environment. I’m in the studio, working on paintings for upcoming exhibitions. But, at the same time, Mother Nature isn’t waiting for me. My garden is in full, all-out peak viewing season. I love the spring. It gives me such a wonderful feeling of optimism and new opportunities. The colors are a feast for the eyes and make me happy to be alive. The lemon greens in the new foliage are affecting the color palette I’m working with in my studio. I hope everyone can take a moment to stop what they’re doing and look around them for something that is joyous and uplifting.

In the studio I have been redrawing some of the petals to bring more balance to the composition. In order to do that I have to apply very thick paint which takes longer to dry than usual.

This is the view at the edge of my entry deck. The white flowers are a rhododendron named ‘Koromo Shikabu’. I have a purple one as well. They are stunning!

This is a view from my studio into the entrance to the woodland garden. The tree with the white flowers is a dogwood. The bright yellows are Hosta varieties which I placed to add bright focal point highlights in the perennial beds.

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

This Week in the Studio – April 27-May 3, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up: The dahlia painting was winding down and I was in the final stage of small, incremental touch-ups, which tells me the end is near. Before heading to the studio each day, I’ve been working with my Wacom tablet and stylus to experiment with composition and color direction for different current and potential paintings. I signed the dahlia this week and finished its edges, and I’ve been living with it in the studio. I keep turning it on its sides and up and down and catching it from unexpected angles. I also played with alternative compositions for the Magnolia in Photoshop

Click here to read all the week’s Studio Glimpses

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

May 2, 2026

As an artist, I spend quite a bit of time analyzing the work before I commit to a painting, the difference between how a composition looks when created on the computer screen and how it looks once I put it onto canvas. Each day, I spend time looking at a piece before I begin painting and after I’m done for the day. Even after I’m finished with a painting, and even after I’ve signed a piece, I spend time looking at the work from many different angles and in different lighting situations. I also like to put the painting in places where I don’t expect it to be so that I “accidentally” see it without expecting to. Living with a work for some time after signing it, sometimes brings out my brushes again when I see something I hadn’t seen at the time. I’m not averse to taking one of my paintings off the wall and modifying it. In fact, I’ve often done that with my work. After all, it is my work, isn’t it?!

After signing this painting, I stood it up in my studio so I can look at it many times in different lighting.

In the studio, I keep all the newer work within my view so I can glance at it now and then. I’ll even turn the paintings on their sides or upside down for a day or so to see in from different viewpoints.

My entry garden is popping this week. I love the lemon yellow greens with the vibrant azaleas. I have had rhodi’s and azaleas in bloom since the beginning of March in many different colors that all harmonize with each other.

This is a daily journal of my creative efforts as I prepare for my June 2026 solo exhibition in Poughkeepsie, NY, and my November exhibition in Chelsea, New York City.

This Week in the Studio – April 20-26, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up: The dahlia painting is closing in on a decision point — not finished, but approaching what mathematicians call an asymptote, where each session brings only the smallest of changes. This week brought glazing, compass work to recenter the flower, and careful attention to the intricate architecture of the center petals. Meanwhile, the garden is in full spring stride: pastels in the deck planters, a now-towering rhododendron that was once a gift from the Rhododendron Society, and a lemon-green haze of new growth everywhere. A trip to the wholesale nursery fed the creative well, and a brunch with my grandson CJ was the kind of time that refills everything.

Click here to read all the week’s Studio Glimpses

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 25, 2026

I may be nearing the end of working on this painting. Some say they’ve finished a painting. I feel that a painting isn’t finished, it’s just abandoned. The way to know that it is time to sign it and move on is that there are only minuscule changes at the end of each studio session. This is what’s known as an asymptote. Imagine that each day, as I begin painting, I am halfway finished with it. Continue forward through the days and weeks, and the realization is that it will never be finished since it will only ever be halfway done. There will always be another edge to soften, a color to shift, or detail to be added. At some point, the changes become infinitesimally small each day, so I make a decision to set the painting aside and begin the next piece. I am approaching that point with this painting.

While I’m working in my studio, my garden is working hard and making large gains, opening up new blooms every day. I’m loving all the pastel colors blooming in my deck planters at the moment. The rhododendron in the near distance was given to me as a gift when it was less than a foot tall, for hosting a garden tour for the Rhododendron Society a number of years ago. It clearly is happy to be here and so am I.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 24, 2026

So what does spring feel like for you? Colors describe it for me. Lemon green for the new growth on trees, pink and yellow pastels, and shades of purple around my garden. In my studio, the dahlia painting is taking form with some of those shades. Though most dahlias are fall-blooming plants, the flowers I paint are not guided by the time of year. This is the season I’m torn between where to spend my time. There is so much creativity to be explored both indoors and outdoors. Conserving enough energy for both is critical for me.

Today I planted ranunculus in the deck planters. In the distance to the left is a pink *Rhododendron* ‘Aglo’, *Grape Muscari* and daffodils in the center bed, and a *Cercis canadensis,* ‘Rising Sun’ and a PJM rhododendron.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 23, 2026

Looking into the center of flowers has always fascinated me. There is so much architectural structure in each flower. Like there is in human faces, there are personalities in each. Today I took a trip to my local wholesale nursery to see what is coming into the retail stores this season. Since, as a landscape designer with a degree in ornamental horticulture, I have the business credentials to have accounts at the wholesale nurseries, I take advantage of the opportunity to see masses of color and form. It is part of the inspiration for my art, both indoors and out.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 22, 2026

Earth Day today. I remember when all this started back in the day. It’s when I began recycling and haven’t stopped since. I worked some more on the center petals of the dahlia. Working on the three dimensionality of the piece. It’s always true that as you get closer to the completion of a painting, it gets harder and harder letting it go. This isn’t ready for prime time yet, but we’re getting there.

My grandson, CJ Ahern, came over to take me to brunch. He gave me coupons for some breakfasts and one dinner as a Christmas gift. It’s the perfect present he could give me, time with him. We took our annual photograph of him on the garden bench. We began this in 2002 and now, a different bench, but the same kid. The garden sure has also been transformed.

Added more shadowing to the center petals to begin to create dimension and depth.

My two-year-old grandson, CJ Ahern in 2002 sitting on the bench in the garden. He had been meandering through this garden since before he could walk.

This year’s photo has CJ sitting on the third version of the bench in front of the PJM Rhododendron we planted there years ago.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

This Week in the Studio – April 13 – 19, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up: The dahlia painting has kept me both challenged and intrigued this week. I’m working toward a rich palette of purples, magentas, yellow-greens, and lemon yellows, but the colors have had a mind of their own — veins of orange where I wanted yellow, a wet layer of Permanent Rose bleeding into a fresh glaze and shifting the color scheme entirely. A compositional reset required painting opaque white and lemon yellow to recenter the flowers, leaving the center flatter and bolder than I intend for now. The background is starting to reflect the color range I’m hoping for, but I’m still finding my way. On days when the dahlia was too wet to continue, I returned to the magnolia — rethinking its palette too, toning down an angry red and wondering if an entirely new color scheme is what it wants. Through all of it, I’ve been using digital tools to test color and composition before committing paint to canvas, a habit rooted in my decades with computer graphics.

In the garden, forsythia are singing, grape muscari are in bloom, the camellia is flowering beside its aluminum print twin, and four yards of mulch arrived exactly where I needed it. Two successes in one day — studio and garden alike.

Click here to read all the week’s Studio Glimpses

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 17, 2026

I’m still struggling with the color scheme on this painting. The yellows became far more orange than I was aiming for, and I’m trying to compensate with a compromise. I haven’t reached it yet, but I’m still trying to realize my goal. It’s so frustrating to work on this day after day and still not be satisfied.

In the garden, the camellia shrub is in bloom. This is the model for the camellia that I had printed on aluminum, which is in the distance in my photos. This weather-resistant print of my artwork has been hanging in the garden for years in all seasons. Both the actual camellia plant and the aluminum print prefer the shade to the blazing sun. As a matter of fact, so do I.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 15, 2026

Another interesting day in the studio. Since the dahlia painting was still wet from yesterday, I took it off the easel and put back the magnolia that I last worked on in March. That was when I overpainted it with thick impasto to cover up the irregularity in the canvas weave that had become more prominent each time I painted. Now that it is fully dry, I need to bring back the original composition. Now, I’m also rethinking the color palette I want to work with on this piece. It was a very angry red in the corners, and I’ve toned that down, but I imagine I might even go with a completely different color scheme.

In the garden today on this nice warm spring day, I had 4 yards of mulch delivered. The driver reminded me that he’d delivered it last year, after I’d had the deer fence put in. When he arrived, he couldn’t fit the truck into the garden since the fencing company hadn’t specified the gates to be wide enough for a pickup truck. I told him that after his problem with the delivery last year, I had the fence company install a second gate so I could get the mulch delivered in the garden and not on the road as they had to last year. He did a great job and was able to place it exactly where I wanted it now that the double gates are wide enough for his truck. Two successes today, one in the studio and one in the garden.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 14, 2026

Another beautiful and warm spring day that has me so happy after the long, icy winter we endured. Glad that is behind us for a while. Today I worked more on the background of the dahlia painting than the petals. I played with dioxazine purple and some Thalo green with white. Still not satisfied with the color palette colors but I’m enjoying the experimentation. I’m lowering the saturation in the most distant petals, so they’ll relate more with the atmosphere surrounding them and differentiate them from the closer petals.

In the garden, the Grape muscari are in bloom today. Every year when they bloom, they remind me of the digital imaging piece I made of them many moons ago. Prints of this artwork have been hanging in many homes over the years. As a matter of fact, they’re still for sale on my website under the link, Designer Prints.

Up close and personal, this early tiny spring flower as you’ve never seen it before, on a sharp black background.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 13, 2026

In the studio, I was glazing Cadmium yellow light and Titanium White over the dahlia petals to lighten the center. Unfortunately, or fortunately, the paint was still slightly wet when I worked on it, so the damp Permanent Rose tainted the new layer. Now I have an entirely new color scheme than what I was aiming for, and I’m trying to decide whether I like this direction or not. I keep walking past it to see it from different angles. I try to surprise myself by purposely not glancing at it and finally swinging my head around to catch it in a glance. The next few days of painting will be interesting since it will help to define what the painting wants to become.

On another note, this forsythia at the front of my driveway is singing songs of happiness to me this week.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

This Week in the Studio – April 6 – 12, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up: This week in the studio began with a forced pause — four days under the weather meant trading the easel for the recliner. But rest has a way of feeding the creative mind, and scrolling through past art and garden photos brought both comfort and inspiration, including a rediscovered video from last year’s Women’s History Month. By week’s end, I was back in front of the dahlia painting, defining petals and leaning into the flower’s spiky, assertive character — a quality that felt exactly right to accentuate. Between studio sessions, the garden offered its own quiet rewards: the brash pink Rhododendron ‘Milestone’ cracking open for the season, lemon yellow Mahonia bealei in bloom, and a stunning Anemone mistral already making me think about the next painting. I also took a closer look at studio organization — the plastic storage bins that keep everything from framing hardware to watercolor supplies within easy reach, and the flowerpots filled with aquarium gravel that keep my brushes standing at attention, garden-style.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 11, 2026

Back in the studio again after a week of feeling under the weather, and I went back to working on the dahlia painting. I’m still defining the various petals. I don’t usually choose to paint flowers with harsh spikes, but at the moment, this felt like a feature that was right to accentuate. In my garden, the brash pink Rhododendron ‘Milestone’ is partially open. I bought this from the American Rhododendron Society in 2001. And yes, I have a database for my plants, too, like I have a database for my art. Different programs though.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 10, 2026

Still feeling under the weather on day four of whatever bug I’m sick with. So, what cheers me up when I’m feeling down? Planning my next painting. This stunning Anemone mistral is teasing me to get back to the studio and out of the recliner I’ve been stuck sitting in for too many days. This beauty jumped into my shopping cart as soon as it found me in the shop. It knows that since it is an ephemeral flower it will live forever if I create a painting with it as a model. That’s why I’m not a floral arranger, but I paint flowers that last.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 8, 2026

Day two of feeling too sick to work. Another day sitting in my recliner resting and scrolling through my art and garden content. I came across this video, which I never published, from last year’s Women’s History Month question: As a Woman, What Were Your Greatest Challenges and Your Greatest Joys.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 7, 2026

So what do you post when you don’t feel well enough to work in the studio? When you’re under the weather enough that you can’t stand in front of the easel and paint. When you’re not up to going out to the garden? If you’re like me, you scroll through your earlier photos and videos to help take your mind off the fact that you’re feeling awful. That’s what I did most of today. I thought you might enjoy this video of a view from my kitchen window. My garden always inspires me to stay calm, feel centered, understand my place in this universe and to heal.

https://youtube.com/shorts/kB-ozlU-R60

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 6, 2026

I’m often asked about how I store & stage my brushes. Since I’m a gardener, I wanted to use flowerpots to hold my brush collection. I wanted to be able to easily get the brushes into the pots so they’d stand up and not flop over. I tried a variety of pebbles, beach sand, and driveway gravel. None of them worked well. But finally, I found that aquarium gravel is smooth, so it does not hurt the fish. With a bit of a poke, I could easily get the brushes in and out of the flower posts without damaging the handles or spreading gravel all over the table. I’ve been using this system for years and it makes me happy to have the garden spirit in the studio.

On my daily walk in the garden today I saw these lemon yellow Mahonia bealei flowers. Once the flowers get fertilized and are finished blooming, the seed pods turn a lovely color of Cerulean blue. Later in the summer, when the seeds are ripe, the birds take over that part of the garden and have a bacchanal style feast with all the squawking, squeaking, singing, and cackling you could possibly imagine. It’s quite fun to happen upon their party even when you haven’t been invited.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

This Week in the Studio – March 30 – April 5, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up. A week of quiet courage and close looking. The boldest moment came when I turned a painting upside down and liked it better. A departure from my usual fully planned approach. The dahlia painting continued to evolve, with more value changes in the background, petal layers differentiated through saturation, and the addition of some Thalo Green and Permanent Rose. There was also one day, after hours in the studio, I forgot to take a photo of the painting, just captured the palette. Guess I was distracted.

In the garden, I paid close attention to the differences in tepal shape across several patches of Galanthus, AKA Snowdrops. The Jasminum nudiflorum is in bloom. A 25-year-old gift from Dr. Iversen at Farmingdale that is now trailing over a stone wall at my back entrance. The lilac colored Rhododendron mucronulatum finally opened, a little late this year. I cut back hellebores and cleared out a small birdhouse. Nice springtime tasks.

A small 1974 windmill painting, rediscovered years ago at my parents’ home, became the occasion for something larger, a reflection on what it truly means to be an artist. The garden, my own history, influences and experimentation all feed my work in the studio.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 4, 2026

I committed a radical act in the studio today. I turned the painting upside down to see the balance of the petals. And guess what! I liked it better that way so I worked on it the entire session, repainting the colors and petal structure. A great act of courage on my part. I usually have the entire composition worked out before I begin a painting and make minor adjustments along the way. This was a major change for me. And I’m so happy with the new look. There might be more of that in my future.

In the garden, I noticed that I have different types of Galanthus, AKA Snowdrops, in bloom at the moment. The petal structure is quite different in the closeup photos I took to try to identify them. On the web, I found a few sites that discuss the different varieties of Galanthus. These minor bulbs bloom so early in the season and so close to the ground that it takes some perseverance to notice the delicate differences. Well worth the trouble though.

In the studio today, I turned the painting I’ve been working on, upside down and had an epiphany. I liked it better. Time to start over. What fun!

There are subtle differences in the petal structure and growth patterns of the different types of Snowdrops. But you have to get way down to the ground to appreciate these little marvels.
Read more about Galanthus on Wikipedia here.

These Galanthus are from a large patch in my driveway garden bed. The tepals are more rounded than others that are in bloom in my garden. Such a welcome sign in the early spring.

I don’t even remember planting these Galanthus but they’re showing up outside of one of my garden beds in the walkway. Look how long the tepals are on this patch of bulbs.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 3, 2026

Today in the studio, I decided to add more depth by darkening some of the original abstract underpainting to make the dahlia pop. I also began differentiating the layers of petals using saturation. Saturation is defined by how bright the color is, not by how light. Lightness is defined by the value of a color. In the garden, I continued to cut back last year’s old and battered hellebore leaves. I usually have this done much earlier in the season, but this year that isn’t the case. Some of the newest hellebore cultivars have their flowers facing upwards so you can see them while walking through the garden. Formerly, your best view was to plant them on the top of a retaining wall since you needed to peer at them upwards to enjoy their delicate beauty.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 2, 2026

I can’t believe that I forgot to take a photo of the oil painting WIP on the easel today after working on it for hours in the afternoon. I have a photo of my palette, but not one of the current state of the painting. Too funny! I also have a photo of the side garden, which is currently filled with blue-blooming Chionodoxa, known as glory-of-the-snow, and assorted daffodil cultivars. This is the view from my kitchen window, and it changes all season depending on many factors. In the big planter, I have a curly willow planted in a pot within the big container since it would otherwise expand so big with sucker shoots that it could cause problems. I take cuttings to root for people who would enjoy having this plant. Notice also, on the garage wall, there are two aluminum prints of my artwork. Those aluminum prints have been hanging there for a few years now, and I get to enjoy them from the view inside my own home.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 1, 2026

In my studio today, I turned around from my easel and my eyes landed on this little 8×10” painting of a windmill. I came across this oil painting of mine when I was clearing out my parents’ home after they passed. I don’t remember actually painting this one, so I’m really glad I signed it and documented the date on the back, which states December, 1974. This was when I was taking my first oil painting classes at the local YMCA in Queens where I owned a house at the time with my then husband and two young sons. At the urging of the painting instructor and my friend, Roberta, I applied and was accepted into the City University of New York, and because there was, at that time, no tuition, I was able to go to college. My father, who was against educating women, did not understand why I wanted to go to college to study art, since he said I was a good enough artist already. What I didn’t know at the time, and certainly my father never did understand, was that being an artist is so much more than creating a painting. Every single aspect of my life has been enriched because I am an artist and a fully creative individual. Someday I’ll write an article about that. But if you read through these daily posts, you will see how everything I do, see, talk about, and engage with feeds into my studio life.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 31, 2026

A beautiful spring day. The first time the temps reached into the 70s for the season and the first day without a jacket. I strolled out to my garden to gain some calmness and inspiration. I always find myself calming down when I walk around my garden, seeing the many small changes each day. The Jasminum nudiflorum, commonly called winter jasmine, was in bloom. The lilac colored Rhododendron mucronulatum finally popped into bloom. It. Was a little later than usual. This plant was on the property when I bought the house in 1989, and I’ve moved it a few times, like I do with many of my plants. It loves where it lives now and so do I. In the studio, I immersed myself in another type of flower. This dahlia oil-painting is starting to come to life. It’s beginning to speak to me and tell me what it plans to be.

I was given this *Jasminum nudiflorum*, as a gift from Dr. Richard Iverson over 25 years ago when I was studying for my horticulture degree at Farmingdale College. I have it trailing over a stone wall at the back entrance to my home.

I emptied the little round birdhouse that was filled with small twigs from last year. At the very bottom was a tiny nest of delicate threadlike material. Now it’s ready for new tenants to move in.

I worked on the space-inspired background and began to add some Permanent Rose to the petals in today’s session in my studio.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 30, 2026

A beautiful spring day with temps in the 60s pushed me outside to do a bit of gardening. Spent time raking and cutting back old hellebore leaves. Spotted these Galanthus elwesii, AKA Snowdrops. Two weeks ago, they were still covered in snow, and today, they made my heart sing since they were dancing in the sunshine. I brought that sunshine into the studio where I continued to work on the dahlia painting. I’m trying to layer transparent paints to keep the brushwork of the lower layers showing through. We’ll see as time goes by whether I’ll be able to maintain that goal.

This Galanthus elwesii, AKA Snowdrops, lives on the north side of my driveway so the snow stays there the longest of all the other areas of my garden. Not too long ago, these cuties were still buried under a foot of snow. Look at them now, dancing in the sunshine.

I don’t usually choose flowers to paint that have points. I like rounded edges. But this dahlia spoke to me so I had to paint it.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 27, 2026

Before I went to the studio today, I took a walk in my garden to see what was new. I found that the first rhododendron is in bloom this year. It is the Rhododendron mucronulatum, ‘Cornell Pink”. Also, the Mahonia bealei has come into a full bloom of brilliant yellow. When the flowers have been fertilized, the seed pods turn blue. When they ripen in the summer, in one single day, the garden is chirping with flocks of birds gathering for a delicious lunch. And then they’re gone until next year. In the studio, I used a thin glaze of oil paint with a 50/50% Galgyd/Gamsol medium to begin to form the flower. This is a very exciting time for a painting. Nothing but possibilities are ahead of you and none of the mistakes or obstacles that whill show up later.

Painted some of the petals on the dahlia.

This Mahonia bealei was originally given to me by Dr. Iversen when I was studying with him at Farmingdale State for my horticulture degree over 25 years ago.

There is always a race to see which of my Rhodi mucronulatums will bloom first. I have a light purple one that was here when I bought my property in 1989. This is blooming quite late

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 11, 2026

Here is my garden in the winter. This room in my basement probably used to be a root cellar since it is unheated and was just an unfinished concrete block space with a thick old fashioned door when I bought the house in 1989. I converted the room to be my darkroom, where I had the sink & water supply to the left. I had rough cabinets built on the two other sides where I had my Leica enlarger, etc. Once I went digital, I donated my darkroom and eventually converted it yet again to a plant room. The sink & water were still there so I just had to add the lighting which was pretty easy. LED lighting is the best since it doesn’t give off much heat, which keeps the plants healthier. I keep the lighting on timers and add and reduce to maintain the daylight hours outdoors. I’ve had pretty good success with my rooting and cutting propagation. Not so with seeds though. Having this room filled with plants to visit all winter helps me considerably as I crawl towards spring.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 9, 2026

We headed home on the red eye from LAX to JFK. Leaving spring warmth of weather in the high 70s to return to snow in my garden. But there is always something to make your heart sing, even in the cold. My witch hazel, Hamamelis mollis, ‘Arnolds Promise was in full bloom when I walked the garden. It was radiating a bright yellow glow into the depressing browns of winter. Gardening is all about optimism. Each season invites you to plan your garden for the future. I take cuttings of my plants, root them, and invite new plants into my garden. Seeds sprout new growth and energy. They signify rebirth. What’s more optimistic than that?

The view of my garden just before leaving for California

We were greeted by this joyful view of our witch hazel upon our return home.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 8, 2026

Bridges in gardens add so much interest to the ambiance of the setting. In my home garden, I designed the dry streambed after seeing the arroyos out west. I added a bridge, painting it a teal blue as a nod to Monet’s bridge, which he had built over his famous water lily pond at his home in Giverny, France. His bridge, in turn, was a nod to the Japanese garden bridges over koi and water lily ponds. No artist lives in such complete isolation that they are not inspired or influenced by what they see around them as they pursue their art. Artists are always gathering inspiration while living their lives, by going to museums and exhibitions to see the work of other artists. Gardens, mine and others, are one of the things that inspire me the most and drive me time and again to paint my flowers.

This bridge is located in the spectacular Japanese garden at The Huntington Museum and Gardens in Los Angeles, California.

A beautiful setting for this red bridge over the water feature at the Descanso Gardens in Los Angeles, California.

My teal bridge was a small tribute to Monet’s bridge over his Lily Pond in Giverny, France. His bridge, in turn, was a nod to the Japanese bridges he’d seen in art prints, which began to be available in Europe in the 19th century.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 5, 2026

On our last day in LA we visited the Descanso Gardens where the vast collection of Camellias were in bloom. I have done many paintings focusing on camellias and I never get tired of them. Each has their own special personality and even that changes during the lifespan of the flower in bloom. The giant white Calla Lilies (Zantedeschia aethiopicaare) are hardy to Zone 7, so of course, I have them in my own garden in NY. I made an oil painting of one of them which is on my website here.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

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