“When They Walked Together”

3ft x 4ft oil on canvas. Work in progress

These are my kids: #3, #2, #1, and #4. I threw this painting together in a day. I painted the poppies the way I remember them, a blanket of red! I finished this painting and hung it up. I didn’t love it. I love my kids, I love the Camino, I love poppies, but I don’t love it all together. I finally put it back on the easel and asked myself the hard question, why didn’t I like it? I decided the poppies were a problem, there is just too much going on in this painting. Getting rid of all those beautiful flowers felt like cleaning out a too full closet and having to part with GOOD stuff. It was a little sad, but I painted over them anyway. I redrew the hill behind the kids I greyed the entire background down. The painting already feels better to me. Now what??? When I am focused on getting a drawing right, I often forget to be painterly, so the figures look cut out and collaged in. I’ll see if my next painting session can fix that:)

About this series: Our family of 6 walked the Camino de Santiago in 2023, and my husband and I returned with our girls in 2025. I’m painting the journey—one memory at a time—and I hope you’ll follow along as I prepare for an art show in fall 2026.

The Bones of Living

8”x6” oil on cradled panel

This is a little demo I did for a one day workshop I taught today in Sunnyvale, TX. We talked about composition, abstracting nature, and what a tonal underpainting can do to add atmosphere to a painting.

This painting explores the threshold between decay and renewal. At first glance the trees seem lifeless, stripped down to what remains after growth has passed. Yet the light seeps through and around these forms like breath in a body. Transforming what could feel desolate into something hopeful, reminding us that even in bareness there is vitality. The trees are not dead; they are enduring. Their exposed structure becomes a testament to resilience—the underlying framework that allows life to return.

Pause

Our family of 6 walked the Camino de Santiago in 2023, and my husband and I returned with our girls in 2025. I’m painting the journey—one memory at a time—and I hope you’ll follow along as I prepare for an art show in fall 2026.

Mixed media and oil 48”x36”x2”

The Cambridge Dictionary defines a pilgrim as a person who makes a journey, often a long and difficult one, to a special place for religious reasons.

From May 30 to July 4, 2023, my husband and I, along with our four children, walked from St. Jean Pied de Port, France, to Santiago de Compostela, Spain—and then on to the end of the earth, Cabo de Finisterre.

We made this pilgrimage to celebrate 25 years of marriage.

1,295,000 steps to Finisterre

9,131 days to 25 years

Along the way, I learned lessons of:

Gratitude

Trust

Vulnerability

Grit

Hope

Joy

Love

Friendship

Humor

and Patience

I learned that you can go really far if you focus on the possibility rather than the problem. You will get there if you just keep going—the only way possible—one step at a time.

I also learned that it is the little moments along the way that make the journey special. Because of this, I try to pause and appreciate the beauty and significance that are right in front of me.