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When I was a teenager, I worked at a local riding stable where I would get to ride in exchange for mucking out stalls and brushing horses. My dream of owning a horse of my own finally came when I was 35, living in Colorado. I purchased an old half-mustang gelding named Buck, who was, appropriately enough, a buckskin. It was with Buck that I started to learn to really communicate with a horse. Since then I’ve had the privilege of sharing my life with many horses, some of whom have lived out their final years with me, some who have moved on to other families.

My time spent with horses has taught me humility, patience, courage, perseverance, sacrifice, confidence, trust and much, much more. To me, there is a spiritual side to the horse-human relationship. Horses, if you listen, have much to say about the world in which we live. They are a connection to the natural rhythms of the universe, and are aware in a way that I think the ancient ones were aware, on a more intuitive level. In today’s culture of consumerism, computers, cars and cell phones, we are often doing two or three tasks at once, all the while thinking ahead to what else needs to be done. Many of us work all day in buildings with no windows. We live in a state of disconnect. 

Living and working with horses, one learns to re-connect, to live in the moment. To be aware of the signals you are sending out, through your thoughts and your body language. To be aware of the signals your horse is communicating to you; the flick of an ear, the swish of a tail, a subtle turning of the head toward or away from you. To truly experience horsemanship, one must clear the mind of clutter and chatter, and learn to breathe and move in unison with the horse. Riding is not an act of domination and subjugation, rather, it is an intricate dance, in which both human and horse are willing partners.

In my current work, which I call Equine Inspiration, it is this very mindful-ness that I strive to accomplish in my painting. To let the equine image act as a metaphor for reconnecting to the pulse of the natural world. To shrug off the stress, the fear, the ambivalence and the apathy of the modern world. Each painting is a journey, as I explore thoughts and feelings and let my horse-muse lead me to new discovery.

It's hard to believe that Fall is more than half-way over and that there are only five more weeks 'til Christmas. Even if you don't celebrate this holiday, it is hard to ignore the TV ads, store displays, reams of catalogs stuffing your mailbox and influx of emails in your inbox all urging you to buy, buy, buy.

As we reflect on what this all means, if we look past the glitter and the hype, we can remember that in many religions, the December holidays are tied to the theme of Light. With December 21 being the shortest day in the northern hemisphere, the urge to light up the night is almost primal. We love that part of the holidays! Even the part that has grown tiresome - the rampant commercialism, has its roots in a very beautiful human gesture: giving a gift to someone to show love, affection, respect and admiration.

Halfway between ghosts and goblins and elves and reindeer, the holiday dedicated to giving thanks for the abundance in our lives seems to get passed over. Other than tons of turkey, cranberries and pumpkin pies, there is little for the consumer machine to sell. How do you put a price tag on thankfulness? Apparently, love can be bought, but gratitude is a whole ‘nother thing.

 Although life has thrown me a few curve balls in the past few months, all in all I have to say I have much to be thankful for. These are a few of the things I am grateful for:

A resilient spirit that allows me to bounce back from setbacks, and forge ahead with renewed confidence and strength.

My parents who instilled in me an optimistic outlook and a strong connection to family.

My husband who loves me and is supportive (if not always thrilled!) with my horse addiction.

Our two wonderful daughters who have grown into beautiful, talented and independent women.

Our two grandchildren who help me see the world with new and excited eyes.

My artistic talent, which gives me an outlet for all the crazy thoughts I have and lets me connect with people all over the country!

My home in Waverly, a place I dreamed about all my life, where I have room to roam and more animals than I need, wonderful neighbors and a front porch from which to watch sunrises and sunsets.

My horses, who have taught me never to give up. And that even the most scary thing can be faced and conquered when you believe in yourself.

My dogs, who think I am the most wonderful person on earth. Even when I’m grumpy.

My cat, who reminds me that sometimes you have to meow – loudly – to get what you want. 

And last but not least, I am thankful for all of you – family, friends, mentors and collectors who have encouraged me, supported me, taught me and connected with me through my paintings. You have been and continue to be wonderful companions on this journey called life.

To be Happy is to be Thankful.

Although the warm temperatures belie the fact that Autumn is coming to a close and Winter is planning its entrance, the giant cottonwoods along the ditch road tell the story. Today’s wind has blown all but the most tenacious of leaves from their branches. Just last week they were still wearing the ostentatious cloak of Fall. Now their twisting armature is exposed, revealing the beauty of their form.

As the days grow ever shorter, and the sun slips southward, I feel a settling in my psyche. Winter is a time of hibernation, rest and renewal. It is when the kernels of creativity can incubate in the darkness, then slowly open and push toward the light.

 I’ve found my passion. 

 And I have to thank my friend Sue Whitten. Sue invited me to be in a benefit art show a few months ago. The theme of the show was “A Hand Up” and the artists were asked to create a painting on an 8x8 canvas, incorporating a hand into the design. We were also asked to write a few paragraphs about how art had given us a “hand up” in our lives.

 An interesting thing happened. By writing about how art touched me at the deepest level after the tragic death of my son-in-law, Bryan, I understood the direction my paintings took in the months following his death were a clear marker toward the artistic path my heart wanted to follow. Then two other things happened. At the show opening, Sue’s daughter, who is a gifted palm reader (I know, sounds weird, but trust me on this!) read my palm and, among other things, told me that my writing would be an important piece to the puzzle of my art. That same evening, a woman purchased my painting because the words I had written had touched her heart.

Writing is not a new thing for me. I have written poetry since I can remember. In fact, poetry and journaling have always been outlets for me when I’m going through transitions in my life. When Bryan died I was unable to write and unable to paint the more realistic landscapes that I’d been painting. So I began just letting the canvas and paint dictate what I would paint. Just gesture drawings with no idea of what they would be – if anything. A strange thing happened – all the lines and swirls and rubbed off paint eventually took the shape of a horse, running, leaping, bucking, rearing. A horse free to just be a horse. And not a realistically rendered horse, but the very spirit of the horse.

So I painted that way for months – many of the paintings in my “Horse” series were created in that time frame. As time went by though, I felt that I needed to get back to landscapes (which, by the way, I enjoy painting). Part of that decision was based on my thought that my skies and barns were what I was known for. I didn’t want to confuse my collectors. I was confused myself.

But again, life can be serendipitous. While I was painting barns and landscapes for my galleries, I was creating paintings for myself that are based on words that I’ve read or words that I’ve written. Using the horse as a visual metaphor, I’m painting straight from my heart, following my muse down twisting mountain roads and across vast prairies, over oceans and into the sky.   And the serendipitous part? My friend Robin gave me a book called Notes From the Universe by Mike Dooley for my birthday (#50!!). My painting “Healing Path” was sold to a woman who loves the painting – but it was the written story of the symbolism in the painting that made her know that this painting was meant to be in her life (thank you Paula!).

And then a third thing happened. After writing about giving to give, after accepting my muse and agreeing to follow, I found out about Colorado Thoroughbred Rescue which is located in Wellington, Colorado. A young couple, Pete and Margaret, have given everything they have to give a second chance to Thoroughbred horses bound for slaughter. Although thoroughbreds are their main focus, they have also rescued ponies and other horses in dire straits. It all came together for me that I am supposed to help this couple carry out their mission. Beginning now, 10% of all my art sales will go to the CTR. It’s my way of giving back to the universe in a very real way. I also encourage you to go to their web site and see the work they are doing. 

I finished two paintings this week. “All Roads Lead to the Truth” explores how not only different people see the same thing and interpret it differently, but even within one’s self we can choose how we perceive life. The second painting, “The Universe is Infinite,” is again about choices, and is a meditation on living life firmly planted in what we have determined is “reality” while dreaming of another existence that holds all the potentials of the Universe. Which is real, and which is a dream?