It’s a new year, as you’ve likely noticed. Here’s an arty shot from a past January, while David and I were on our year of adventure.

It’s likely a sunset, since that’s when we usually walked the beach, but it looks a bit like a sunrise, so use your imagination. I’m trying to give you a visual metaphor of NEW.

Speaking of which, I’ve already started new classes, with more to come. So much to look forward to. In the process, I’m trying to embrace the AND of life. In one of my poetry classes the teacher reminds us periodically  to acknowledge the existence of despair AND delight, like Ross Gay in his two books of delights that aren’t actually all about delight.  Grief AND joy. Differences of opinion AND unity in the things that matter most.

Last Saturday I drove down to Denver on a dreary icy day–I know, sounds terrible so far–but it was to see the Camille Pissarro exhibit at the Denver Art Museum. A cold gray day AND beautiful art.

It was absolutely beautiful and I loved it. Completely worth braving I-25. Besides the glorious exhibit, people were kind and considerate of others trying to see the art. Yay.

And up close:

Pissarro’s art reminds me of how lights and darks together are more interesting than either alone, how complementary colors–those on opposite sides of the color wheel, like red/green, blue/orange, yellow/purple–when used side by side, make each other appear brighter, more vibrant.

And up close:

I took my time studying his brush strokes, color placement, color choices, subject matter, even the fact that in the midst of all this beauty, there was rarely a sky without clouds. Can’t wait to experiment a bit myself. I haven’t yet tried painting Monet’s Japanese Garden in Giverny that I visited in 2019, but why not? I’m feeling inspired.

Wishing you all the best in 2026. Praying for you unquenchable joy to ease the hard parts. Grace and peace to you and yours!

 

 

(PRO TIP: Remember to go to the actual website to see the photos without weird aspect-ratio distortion. Clicking on the title will get you there.)

My fall classes and various other events are in full swing, so I’ve been on overdrive lately. That seems fitting for the month of October, which has always meant, for me, color on overdrive. I especially love the bright blaze of fall foliage in New England, but Fort Collins hasn’t been too shabby this year, either.One day recently, you would have found me craning my neck, gawking at trees in a parking lot and snapping pix with my phone, caring NOT AT ALL if I looked crazy doing it.I mean, worth it, right? Even more glorious in person, I promise.

Earlier in October, I finally made it back for a Sunapee fall, after ten years of missing it, thanks to a family wedding. Congrats, Julia and Sean! Thanks to them, I also hiked to the top of Mount Kearsarge for the first time in decades. Woo-hoo! Super chilly on top, so we didn’t stay long!

New Hampshire is in a drought, so the foliage was not its most spectacular–more brown, so the flashes of red were all the more welcome,and the glowing sunset light on the lake made up for it.Last weekend was the Fort Collins Artists Studio Tour, and what a treat that was. I couldn’t resist this one by my friend Marie-Louise Dautzenberg.

Now I get to wake up to sunlight on this celebration of color. There is some serious talent in Northern Colorado, but the great thing this year is I felt more inspired than intimidated. Is that one of the gifts of aging? Less of a need to compete? More of a desire to try something new with no grading scale attached? I think it might be. What do you think?