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This weekend, I attended a quilt conference; five YEARS had passed since the previous one in this area of the Rockies. It was humbling, to see the love in the room: of the craft, of the art and also the love between all of us who share the same passion. It was amazing to see the presentations from the various guilds and of course the heart stopping beauty of the quilts themselves. In the room, we all became emotional hearing about the quilters who had passed on--it had been five years after all. We noticed how much we had all...

My Dad was an executive and always looked his best. Being impeccably dressed was a must, and our family made frequent trips to the One Hour Martinizing shop (we never said the dry cleaner), at the top of our street. He must have looked the part in his blindingly white shirt at the early morning meetings. As an artist, I owe a debt of gratitude to the One Hour Martinizing shop. Every shirt that was picked up was folded firmly around a perfect piece of unbent cardboard. There were stacks of them in the house, available for me to decorate...

It is a joy for me to watch films about how pottery is produced. The potter's wheel, the drippy glazes, the gleaming results. Interestingly, I also enjoy the films about the industrialization of pottery making. Josiah Wedgwood was the leader in developing the techniques for mass production, including designing moulds and machinery to speed up each process. As a person who creates handmade items, I wonder at the process from a worker's perspective. In a factory, the employees can't say that they are potters, but rather that they attach handles of tea cups or spouts of teapots...all day long. I...

Children have one common denominator: they LOVE stickers. A teacher who hinted that stickers could be handed out that day enjoyed well behaved students, at least for a little while... I can still feel how my chest swelled with pride the day I was given TWO tiny stars beside my name. I was the BEST in my kindergarten class at marching while tapping a triangle in time to the music. Stickers can also be glaring reminders of our personal faults. My cheeks still burn with shame when I see my record of attendance at Summer Bible School with the GREEN...

The late Glenn Frey wrote the song lyrics, "You were born in the city/Concrete under your feet". These words echo in my mind as I traipse through the vast Canadian Rockies landscape, overwhelmed with scenes to paint. The part of me that belonged to the city was lost years ago. Around every tree, a new experience: a grouse launching itself into the air, making you jump and taking your breath away; an elk sauntering along the trail; an eagle soaring above so you stop and stare until it disappears from sight. Thankfully, I'm never alone out there. I have the...