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There is a quote on my desk written in Sharpie marker: "Writer's Block is a phony, made up, BS excuse for not doing your work." It's from Jerry Seinfeld, one of my comedic heroes. I love philosophy. Some "old friends" are Marcus Aurelius and Epictetus, who have been with me most of my life and continue to inspire me. On my own personal creative journey however, it's the Masters of Comedy who lead the way. I read their books and plays, watch their stand up routines, listen to every interview with them that I can find. The common denominator is...

Some things just rattle you. Many years ago, I stood at a desk, watching a famous watercolourist create magic in front of my eyes. What shook me was the fact that she used a FULL roll of toilet paper to remove excess water from her brush. I couldn't believe the waste; I didn't understand why someone capturing the beauty of nature wouldn't work to protect it rather than create more garbage in the name of art. John Muir Laws the naturalist, artist and educator is the person who explained ways to respect the natural world as you paint, especially outside....

We don't "need" to find new descriptions for Spring. Poets and musicians have struggled valiantly to put words and music to this glorious season for centuries. We find each year, our hearts continue to fill with indescribable joy as Spring arrives. In my artist's brain however, I think of Spring as "Baby Bear Time". In the story of Goldilocks, everything that belonged to the baby bear was "just right" and that describes my feeling perfectly. My heart pounds to see Chartreuse green popping out everywhere. That loud, defiant, magical colour is determined to make the seasons change. Winter, despite the...

High school yearbooks are a treasure trove for me. Hours spent turning the pages are never wasted; there is always a new discovery, from old hairstyles to popular songs of the day. My Grandmother lived in a small town in Quebec and had a stack of yearbooks from the late 1960s, before the high school had become the local elementary. I pored over the pages, deciding who seemed the most accomplished, who was the prettiest, who was most likely to become my Prince Charming one day. (It was W., who graduated the year I turned five!!!) The lesson about how...

Recently, I was gently admonished by a gallery owner for not attending the gala on the Friday before. After telling me that I was missed, she also smiled, knowing me well enough that going to a public event as an artist makes me so uncomfortable I tend to avoid them. It's not that I'm shy: in fact, my Mother told me that when I was little, I used to walk up to STRANGERS in Montreal and looking up at them, loudly announce, "I SHY..." The discomfort that makes me squirmy inside is trying to explain where in my soul the...