Notes on the Sturgeon Moon: a week at Oregon’s Ponder Residency, a lichen-inspired collage mural taking shape at home, and what’s on view this fall — from Drift at BAU Gallery to Assembled Ground at The Idea Kitchen in Larchmont, NY.

Winter was genuinely inward: quiet, research-heavy, absorbing. Spring feels like the opposite. New work, open studios, and a lichen research project putting down roots.

Reading and visual art share surprising parallels—both invite us to slow down, notice details, and discover stories hiding in plain sight.

Solitude is increasingly rare for most practicing artists, particularly those who balance creative work with family responsibilities. Sometimes, the most productive artistic choice involves stepping away from familiar routines to rediscover what emerges when curiosity guides uninterrupted studio time.

The most frequent question I encounter reveals a delightful misunderstanding: "Is this watercolor or oil paint?" When I respond "collage," surprise follows inevitably. Perhaps it's time to expand our collective definition of what collage can accomplish—and why torn paper might be the perfect medium for capturing organic flow.

Sometimes the most direct route isn't the most authentic one. My path from printmaking student to jewelry designer to art teacher to practicing artist reveals how creative authenticity often emerges through unexpected detours—and why returning to your artistic core requires both courage and patience.