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This is the young man who taught me what love is. He is my heart.

Painting him this summer made me appreciate what a good portrait artist I am. I know it sounds incredibly unaware. I look at this painting and I think… Wow! This has all of his elements. The portrait betrays his spirit.

My clients tell me I have this gift. I hear them. I trust them. But I never experienced that intimacy. Painting Magnus and seeing his arrogance, his vulnerability, his tousled hair that somehow works, I experience him and I experience how blessed I am.

I love fashion. I love the decadence of silk and cashmere. I love nuanced warms like this gold hair, gold silk, and camel. I love the strut. I love how she owns the world.

I began painting fashion illustrations after a terrible breakup. I wanted to own my path. Leaning on these masters of design was a smart move.

This is a theme I paint all the time. I’ve always looked out windows or through fences, imagining and yearning to be part of that life. I spent years imaging that I would be happy if I lived there or was there.

Now, I am fascinated by this feeling when it happens. It reminds me that I am here, as I reflect on the sweetness of a young girl who dreamed of being a part of a magical world. I love the nostalgia and my obsession with a view and how it can elevate and inspire.

Winter light, or more accurately, February light, was so sharp next to the summer light. The sun was lower. The intensity is almost unbearable. The light was yellow instead of pink.

Painting from the vantage of a cozy bedroom in the winter was so romantic. I felt much more like I was living in a fisherman’s village than an art colony.

I think I fell in love with yellow at this moment.

The beds are tucked up in the rafters at Captain Jack’s. The residence of long ago cut outviews to the sky and built ladders to use every corner of the cabin.

Sleeping in the rafters here reminds me of building forts as a child,and long summer days. When I am sleeping here now, I remember the endless minutes of musing tucked in against the harbor breeze.

I find the colorful cut-outs of the rooftop regenerative. I fall in easily to my imagination and the adventure I will plan. Many crazy schemes and paintings have been born in these rafters. I find Captain Jack’s Wharf incredibly inspiring.

The yellow door is iconic. I think every artist in Provincetown has painted some version of this door. For me, the struggle with the puppy and the yellow door together are Ptown.

Everyone in Provincetown has a dog. They are the children of our community. You hear people scolding or fussing over their canine family members constantly. The eye exchanges between them could convince you the puppies understand English. Some of the puppies I’ve met are as distant in personality from their owners as any two strangers could be. I have enjoyed watching this particular disagreement.

The Met 8x10

$1800

This is a scene from March 1st, 2020. I look at it and think it looks like a time from long long ago. I love the Met. Going there makes me feel like I’m in cahoots with a group of people who also fed themselves with hope and beauty.

These are my heroes.

This March morning was one of those warm day anomalies. The air still had a crisp undercurrent, but the promise of spring was present.

He wore silver slippers and peacefully read. I loved him for leaning into the best of the day. I especially loved him for showcasing big spirit during the covid here.

I wish for all woman to feel this feminine, this beautiful, and this entitled to take up the entire room in taffeta.

This is the kind of portrait I want to paint of ladies. I want women to rejoice in how magnificent they are.i want to visually flood our aesthetic with this celebration of grandeur.

This is the smaller rendition of Ferry lights. She is the painting that made me want to experience this scene larger.

This is the end unit of Captain Jack’s Wharf. The Wharf juts out onto the flats at the very end of Provincetown. When the tide goes out and the sky turns pink, the beach turns into a giant mirror. The effect is a pink world.

We the painters, chase the magic of Ptown light. It’s hypnotic to a visual junky. I’ve done endless paintings harnessing just a bit of this enchanted world.

Liam, Raina, and Matt who are hosting you at the moment spoiled us rotten this summer.

Sunday Dinners began last summer on a freezing night in the artist Robert Miller’s home. We decided we should meet weekly and share our stories, touch base, and enjoy a long raucous meal.
This summer we decided to pool our resources and hire some of the culinary artists who would not be at our favorite restaurants due to Covid.

This is a portrait of the night after. Liam brought wild flowers from his garden to decorate the occasion. I saw the sunflower and the generous light flooding in from the garden.

Flowers are a way to create an environment in which we can thrive. Art, great food, conversation are all ways we design our settings so we smile more. I believe like the Greeks from Homer that feasting is as important as the battling. We make those choices. We stop, appreciate, and breathe it all in. I had such gratitude painting this. I felt compelled to add those words.

John and I took a sunset bike ride to Truro in early June. The town was beginning to come alive a bit. The lawn guy was out mowing the grass. There were signs of life everywhere.

John is a consummate adventurer. In NYC, a rendezvous at a gallery will turn into tasting cookies and a short visit to the Met. On our bikes that day, John treated me to several little visual snacks along Route 6A. There are two pieces from this particular bike ride.

I love this scene because it’s iconic Truro. She never changes. The image is timeless.

I enjoy a cozy spot. I enjoy good sheets and a duvet. Everything quiets down. Cotton on skin means there is nothing else to be done. Now is the moment to watch your thoughts and enjoy your dreams.

The Mary Heaton Vorse has many scrumptious beds with thoughtful views. In this room, there is a chair where you can sit to appreciate this quiet cozy spot.

My mother painted a picture of a clothes line in 1995 with a painter called Tommy Thurmond. It is my favorite painting of my mother’s.

I’m not sure why I love clothes lines. It’s the opposite feel of high fashion. Yet, the smell of Ptown air on your clothes is one of the most enticing experiences for me.

I love how the little wooden clothes pin is the star of this dramatic scene.

Vulnerability can be terrifying, but also otherworldly beautiful. Ptown is only a small sandbar, obstinately claiming her space.

When the weather hits, the drama and the beauty are heightened. The storms aftermath was on full display on Vine Street. The sky was dramatic and the pools of reflected light only emphasized her power.

Mother Earth rules here but she also takes immaculate care of her inhabitants.

First of all, the symphony of reflected light is a party. Captain Jack’s Wharf is always a visual feast.

I love this view out the door for the color but also because I’m in the scene. I am living my dream life. Our shoes are a testament to all the amazing things we were doing every day. This was a moment where we were going everywhere Ptown style, parties, walking out to boy beach, A-House dancing, tipsy biking, smiles, and more smiles.

It was everything Ptown is at its best.

The pink light hits every evening when it’s clear. There’s this magical moment when the sky and the water are all bathed in pink light. Everyone looks beautiful. The greens pop. Collectively, we all sigh in appreciation.

It’s a familiar Ptown moment.

This was one of our first Post-Covid social outings. We were scared but desperate to be together.

The weather was shifting. Matt brought Lunchables and other school treats. The scene is awkward and careful. Of course I couldn’t help thinking how the beauty was there with me whispering…

“Life is all a blessing”.

What can I say? I love green. This is one of my favorites. Small and brilliant like a ring. I delight in the perfect color note. I delight in the high gloss finish. I’m a hedonist and I love seeing John and Dan’s door.

Wonderful men with a wonderful green door.

This is an image from March, towards the beginning of the pandemic.

Once I settled into my quarantine, the walk to the Jetty became one of the obvious destinations. I imagined myself as a character in one of Jane Austin’s novels. The wind was whipping, the cold air on my face, walking on the rocks alone in the stunning desolate beauty. The beauty of nature is powerful, and its ability to bring you into a state of profound meaning and purpose is an experience I relish every day.

In Provincetown, it’s impossible not to participate in the rapture. The jetty teaches me that beauty is there steady, unchanging, a loving companion holding you.

This is an image from March, towards the beginning of the pandemic.

Once I settled into my quarantine, the walk to the Jetty became one of the obvious destinations. I imagined myself as a character in one of Jane Austin’s novels. The wind was whipping, the cold air on my face, walking on the rocks alone in the stunning desolate beauty. The beauty of nature is powerful, and its ability to bring you into a state of profound meaning and purpose is an experience I relish every day.

In Provincetown, it’s impossible not to participate in the rapture. The Jetty teaches me that beauty is there steady, unchanging, a loving companion holding you.

When I first walked into to the Mary Heaton Vorse house, what impressed me most was the unique paths of light that came in. Every source of light seemed like an enticing adventure .

When I looked down the stairs, I felt lured towards the doorway at the bottom of the stairs. I loved the Twilight Zone. The green stairs with their peeling layers of paint promised this staircase had stories.My imagination was piqued. Who else but a writer with too many children
and tons of chaos would live here? Well, Ken Fulk, of course! Only at Ken’s do you sometime meet a bunny and a 6 foot super model. Magical alluring chaos that beckons you to be in a great story.

For me, Italians treasure greens, perfectly worn paint, and the simple glamour of light and color.

I love color, design, fashion. I especially love painting nuances of the same saturated color. Greens, pinks, reds! Using the juxtaposition of cool and warm variations of the same color to recreate the boldness and excitement of the effect. I painted many sketches of this particular Valentino collection. For me, the cascading chiffon moving around her movements is magic. I delight in the fantasy of swirling around in the decadence of the color and the fabric.

On a cloudy March day I thought this adorable art gallery looked as though it were spilling over blue paint.

When I visually dug in, I felt so intrigued by the richness of detail. The rusty anchor and the empty announcement box were so perfectly waiting for something to happen. The buds were pushing through the tidy garden.

The Beachcombers buildings is attached but uncaring, unchanged yet still capturing a perfect Ptown patina.

I sat at this red table reading The Mayflower. The pink light lit up the dock and the buoys. The breeze was perfect. In a few minutes, the boats dotting the harbor would beam with the sun’s last light.

The day would soon be over.

She is a vision in hot pink.

The gauzy fabric decadently engulfs her tiny frame. Parts of her body play hide and seek with the fabric. She is engulfed in the drama of floating silk and color. The hat adds texture and continues the playful theme of the silk.

How I love my Valentino!

Most of us have seen this puppet sitting in the French door. Usually he wears a load Mardi Gras beads.

I have had the privilege of sitting behind this puppet. The way the passerby delight and their energy soars is so endearing. This interactive art piece has been here for years modestly uplifting those
who find it.

The puppet is a perfect reflection of its inhabitants. They also modestly uplift and support our community. The custodial spirit of Ptown inhabitants is on full display here.