I never knew her, she died when my mother was a little girl. All that I know of her are from stories. Stories my mother told me about how affectionate she was, in her childhood where she got little affection. Stories my grandmother told me of a woman who was clever, but didn’t speak English,…

Yesterday I had the rare opportunity to paint en plein aire on Vashon Island. The day started completely grey and rainy, but we took a chance and the day changed dramatically. The sky broke open, and wonderful blue spread across the sky while huge puffy dark clouds encroached on it. Computer monitors and electronic photography…