Kitsune, or “fox” in Japanese, are shape-shifting, trickster spirits. As they gain wisdom, they grow extra tails, culminating in nine when they are a thousand years old, and become deities.
“Light Touch”
Eventide, twilight, limbo
Perhaps forever alonely
Making our way
Through the darkness
Not knowing
What might wait
Beyond the tangled trees
“French Quarter Fae”
These dark fairies (I call them “DemonFae”) plague me, chittering in my studio, each one insisting I paint her portrait before her sisters’. This one appeared in an ancient house in New Orleans. The French doors opened to cast ironwork balconies which twined their way into the gothic scrollwork of the painting…
Soul Owning
Demons are born from those who control us when we’re young. But those who capture the power of their demons discover that they are the source of our strength, determination, and individuality as we move through the world.
Hart’s Heart
Grounded, strong, brave, daring whimsy despite the cliff's edge...
TetherWolf Gate
Her wolves guard and love her, but she has turned her back on their protection, almost ready to fly…
Kitsune, or “fox” in Japanese, are shape-shifting, trickster spirits. As they gain wisdom, they grow extra tails, culminating in nine when they are a thousand years old, and become deities.
“The Last Mardi Gras”
Mardi Gras Morning of 2020, I stand in the dark hallway of strangers, while drums & ribbons & costumed revelers swirl in the street.
As light streams in through an open door, I take a single photograph, which becomes the base for the painting.
A month later, the Pandemic.
There will never be a Mardi Gras where strangers dance & kiss & laugh in such close proximity.
“Synchromnicity”
Reflection, connection
As Above, So Below
We are starstuff
Spiraling sacred geometry
Throughout the Cosmos.
Connected everywhere
To everyone, to everything.
We are all possibilities.
For thirty years, I’ve shown my work around the country, and on the streets of New Orleans, to humans of every shade, shape, age, gender, and religion.
I’ve met about 300,000 of them - so far - and because it is safe to share secrets with strangers, people unfurl their hearts in my hands like bloody chrysanthemums. We all have so much more in common than we think.
When I’m lucky, there’s a parade with a brass band, or someone serenades me on a ukulele, or fifty guys dressed like Elvis roll by on scooters.
When I’m unlucky, a dog pees on my print racks. New Orleans is like that.
Thanks for stopping by.
I hope something here sings to you.