I am inspired by the sea and shoreline of New England, from the far edges of Cape Cod's Provincetown where I have studied, to the far reaches of Nova Scotia where my Scottish ancestors arrived over 200 years ago. The sea is where I go for inspiration and healing, bringing back to my studio sketches, photos and memories in which to recreate what I have seen and felt there. I am not a boater but an observer of its ways. Often I paint the same boat over and over again changing it's color or texture, direction or light. Like a prayer, its repetition is soothing and meditative. I see it's shape as womb, cradle and casket like, embracing beings or peacefully carrying souls into the afterlife.


I first became mesmerized by the cottage as a child seeing those all in a row on route 6A in Truro.  Their melody played as angles of light created endless variations.  I watched as we approached them, passed by and then as I turned my head to look back from our car,  Their poetry left me with a need to express what I felt and saw.  The cottage, whether all in a row, a semi circle, clustered or alone, I see as haunting with spirit and memories of it's past



The shed stands anchored and strong.  It is a place of peace and balance where emotions have been shed.  I arrived at this place through meditation and chanting and through the quiet of nature.  This is our natural state but not one at which most of us can hold onto.  We must return to the shed periodically to let go, release and forgive.  


I started this series "To Dwell" in 2019. Now, in 2020, as I continue it during the pandemic and the protests for Black Lives Matter, its meaning is more profound.  
To Dwell is defined as 
1. to live in a specified place
2. a slight pause in the motion of a machine
3  to think speak or write at length about a subject, especially one of anxiety or unhappiness
My dwellings are maternal, protective and grounded yet they reveal the complications of place and memory.