I recently came upon some old work I had made that never looked quite finished. Since I have done these pieces, I have gained new knowledge that is helping me to rework these pieces of art and make them into a completely new artwork that feels more complete. This particular piece is called, "Tree Ball Gown." The original ball gown was designed by fashion designer, Charles James in 1955. His client was Marietta Peabody Fitzgerald Tree and was named for her. The gown was designed to resemble the shape of a tree when uprooted. The original versions of this gown are at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. My version of this piece started with a dry point etching with hand tinting. But then I added a surprise element to it, actual red fabric to show off the dress. The background had been left open and looked quite bare. So I have added a wonderful patterned paper and green and yellow inks to the background to tie the piece together. If you would like to see some of the other pieces that I have reworked, please come by my studio on May 9th for our Second Saturday Open Studio Tour between 10am and 5pm.

Nature As My Co-Designer I’m so grateful to have nature as my "inspiration board." There’s a certain peace in stepping outside the studio and letting the local landscape take the lead. The Green Glaze Quest Of all the colors, green has long been a favorite of mine. With so many variations in nature, I feel entitled to as many as I want in my own work! These stacking bowls are my attempt to capture that perfect, leafy hue—they look right at home against the weathered grain of aged wood. Botany Meets Bas-Relief Why draw a leaf when I can use the real thing? It’s an absolute pleasure to wander my garden or take a walk to gather plant material. These wall hooks were such a fun project—pressing lavender and the random sprig of something or another directly into the clay. The result? A permanent "record" of the valley that smells (in my imagination, at least) like, well, Ojai. Cycle of Life (Aka: The Chrysalis) A rather humbling aspect of being a creator is being reminded that nature is way better at it than I am. Case in point: a Monarch caterpillar decided to set up shop right outside my front door. Watching that perfect, gold-trimmed chrysalis form makes my best hand-thrown vase look like a rough draft. It’s also a great reminder to slow down—nature doesn't rush the "firing" process, and neither should I. The Texture of the Banksia The bottom pod is the real deal, but the top one is my own hand-sculpted version made from wild clay collected from nearby Matilija Canyon. I feel like my clay version captures that earthy, rugged texture of the original. Seeing them side-by-side is rather fun! Trying to mimic the intricate, prehistoric detail of the pod was a challenge, but using clay straight from the canyon floor makes it feel like a genuine piece of the landscape. Finding the Flow At the end of the day, these pieces are more than just clay and glaze; they are snapshots of the world right outside my door. Embracing the "perfect imperfections" of a seed pod or a stray leaf helps me stay connected to the best inspiration. Whether I'm foraging in the valley or just watching a cocoon on the porch, I'm reminded that the best art isn't just made—it's often found.

There are moments in an artist’s life when a shift occurs quietly at first, almost unnoticed, and then, over time, becomes unmistakable. "A Woman’s Painted Journey", my upcoming solo exhibition at the Santa Paula Art Museum, is a reflection of one of those shifts - a four-year evolution in how I see, gather, and create. Opening on May 16th from 4–6 PM, this body of work traces a path that has been shaped as much by movement through the world as by time in the studio. It is rooted in exploration and observation: long road trips, quiet walks, unexpected encounters with color, light, and form. These moments, fleeting and often small, have become the seeds of each piece. Over the past several years, my process has undergone a transformation. Trained in traditional methods, I found myself increasingly drawn to digital tools - not as a replacement, but as an extension. iPad sketches made in real time, photographs taken along the road, and vector drawings created in the studio now intertwine with hand-painted papers, collage, ink, and layered textures. The result is a hybrid language, one that allows me to move fluidly between spontaneity and control, between intuition and structure.

It all started with a hole in the ground. I was in the backyard with our contractor, gazing into a deep trench where they’d hit groundwater. He said it was pure clay—impossible to compact for building. I asked if I could use it for ceramics. He said, “I don’t see why not.” That was it—I was hooked on the mystery of working with the earth beneath our feet. And so, in this Year of the Horse, I’m experimenting with our wild Ojai clay on my horse sculptures. Each firing is a new discovery. As they go through the fire, the surfaces shift and transform—no two come out the same. The unpredictable surface patina brings a unique trace of Ojai to the works. Sometimes, combining my luster glaze with Ojai wild clay creates a chestnut tone that shifts into soft violet, almost lavender, luminous in different lighting. When I’m creating with our wild clay, I often think of the indigenous Chumash people and their deep relationship with the natural elements in Ojai. It reminds me how extraordinary it is to take something as ordinary as mud from our yard and transform it into art fired to stone, with each equine sculpture carrying the essence of Ojai. This Sunday, the first of the wild herd will appear at the California Coastal Horse Rescue in Ojai, for the Day of the Horse fundraiser, April 26, from 11–3. And you’re always welcome to reach out for a studio visit: val@freemanart.com

Here is my little frog on a rock that I did for The One Hundred Moments Project for SAMA. My intent was to use as many different tessarae that I could in one small space. I used stained glass, fillati, fused glass, smalti and translucent grout. One of SAMA’s most impactful programs for members is returning for its seventh season this year as part of a multi-organizational collaborative celebration of contemporary art! For over 10 years, The One Hundred Moments Project has been a captivating, non-juried collection of work representing the full spectrum of SAMA’s diverse membership. This program has been featured at SAMA events in Chicago, Boston, Nashville, Greater Detroit, Kansas City, and Orlando. This year, it will return as a multimedia event featuring work by members of our Partners in the Arts, The Stained Glass Association of America, The Glass Art Society, and the International Society of Glass Bead Makers. For 2026, the rolling exhibit will travel to Corning, New York, to be featured at the world-renowned Rakow Library at the Corning Museum of Glass, May 9 – June 7, 2026, and then onto a new annex of the Pittsburgh Glass Center, the Pittsburgh Glass Corner Gallery, June 26 – September 25, 2026. The collection will be on view for over 5 Months and will be complemented by a renewal of the 100 Moments Online Gallery.

I have a show opening at the Carolyn Glasoe Foundation here in Ojai on May 8 called "r/evolve." I struggled with the title – I love the sound of it, but I worry the forward slash between the "r" and "e" is maybe a little pretentious? We’re going with it anyway - this is, after all, a show of round paintings, a few that turn, a painted sphere and two sculptures made of horn-shaped PA speakers mounted on turntables. All of it looks a little like my previous landscapes, but it’s nothing like what I’ve made before – it’s about evolving! The biggest piece in the show, the anchor, is a seven-foot diameter disc: a lacquered composite tabletop my friend Joel discovered sitting next to a dumpster last summer. It was transported across town in another friend's truck with blankets and lasso straps (and the happy discovery that it could be rolled across my yard like a giant pool raft); then it was sanded, primed, and varnished before a drop of paint went on it. I painted it over a few months in wedges, one pie slice at a time. The real challenge wasn't logistical. It was compositional. When I’m doing a landscape I follow a familiar rule-set: horizon about three-quarters up, diagonal lines receding to a vanishing point, bigger things closer, smaller things further, color vivid up front and soft in the distance. The rectangle is obedient. It holds still. The circle doesn't play by those rules. Where is "closer" in a circle? Which way is up? Where’s the horizon? (Somehow it never occurred to me to just treat the circular edge as a border — a viewfinder — and paint an ordinary scene inside it.) Instead I worked from the center out, playing with radiating lines of perspective and curved, patterned wave shapes to suggest form, undulation, slope, elevation, distance. What came together felt like a little planet. Also a wheel of fortune. Also a mandala. At a certain point it became obvious: it needed to turn. I researched and acquired an industrial-grade lazy susan mechanism and called in a builder friend to help make and affix a mounting plate so it could hang on the wall (none of this would happen without the help of friends! so grateful for this community!) . And once the whole thing was turning, everything opened up. I fell into my familiar dreamlike way of working, filling in spaces like putting together a puzzle, leaving space for pink to show through, creating telescoping points of view. I tossed little houses across the picture like Monopoly pieces, snaked roads among overlapping tree shapes and crop patterns, painted a sun on the curve of the horizon, then another, further down (or was it up?). Along the way I started to feel genuinely liberated by the circular. The cell, the eye, the planet, the ovum – we’re born of the circle/sphere. We live on one. We see through them. Our origin, our vision, our whole world is a circle/sphere. So what's with all the rectangles? Our windows, doors, tables, screens, books, walls, street layouts — squares and grids everywhere! I felt myself getting carried away looking around the ordinary world, wanting to scream: down with the Oppressive Right Angle! Sure yes rectangles are efficient, stackable, complementary. They give a pleasing sense of ORDER and CONTROL and USEFULNESS. Fine. But they are not the only shape; they need to make room. Come see the show and celebrate the circular! The opening is Thursday, May 8, 5-7 pm, at the Carolyn Glasoe Foundation, 248 S. Montgomery St, Ojai. If you want to go deeper: on Saturday, May 17 I'll be doing an artist talk in conversation with Joel Fox. And on Friday, May 16 I'm leading an illustrated sketchbook workshop.

HOLOS is transforming. For the last 13 years, I've been producing HOLOS sculptures, wall prints, and jewelry. When I saw this design in my meditation back in 2013, I recognized the beauty and importance of what this design represented. For me the design symbolized we are One Humanity. It also represents the totality of All That Is. I was told by a physicist that I modeled the creative pattern of the Universe. My inspirational glass casting teacher said I could use this design in my artwork for the rest of my life. Many people have my HOLOS sculptures made of stone, kiln cast glass, 3D printed metal sculptures, cast precious metal pendants, and wall prints. I continue to receive comments of great appreciation for what HOLOS means to them. Here's one quote that I recently heard for travelers and locals alike, "I wear the HOLOS almost every single day! Love it so much and I can feel the amazing energy it brings 🙏💜 So grateful for your artistry!" I have a limited inventory of my HOLOS artworks, so if interested please contact me. brianberman.art So what is transforming? I created a new logo identity as my purpose and passion is promoting peace. Now more than ever, PeaceBuilders need support. If you are interested in my artwork or my Awakening Peace design, drop me a note and let me know what interests you.

I drove back to Cambria last week to do more astrophotography. Yes, that's right, I was working the night shift again, lol. Most of the grass on the mountains were golden brown at the higher elevations, but there was still alot green mountains facing the ocean. The oak trees looked healthy and the foliage was dark green. I could not shoot every night, the clouds rolled in half the nights I was there. So I was grateful for the still, serene clear dark sky on the very first night I photographed the skies.

Working with clay throughout my life has opened many doors and given me a way to explore, express and make visible the intangible thoughts and feelings about the wonderful world around me. I welcome you to my studio this Saturday, 10am to 5 pm.

I’m moving to Mexico! While my husband and I had always planned our retirement in Mexico, an opportunity presented itself this year and this seems to be the right time to make the move. We are moving to Ajijic in the Lake Chapala area which is about 30 miles south of Guadalajara, in the state of Jalisco. Ajijic is very bohemian in nature with artists, writers, actors, and musicians drawn to the region. Therefore I believe we will fit right in! This will be my last year with OSA and thus my last 2nd Saturday and tour. I hope you’ll have a chance to stop by and say hello but also take the opportunity to take some art with you. EVERYTHING will be discounted , as I cannot take everything with me when I go. If for any reason those dates do not work for you and you still want to visit, please let me know and we can set something up. Meanwhile, between trips back and forth to set up our new life, I have managed to keep the creative juices flowing. I must admit I have been writing more and painting less. Mostly I’ve been painting the words. In a way combining both. Hope to see you in May so you can find out more. Mariana

Growing up in the Upper Ojai I was always mesmerized by the Topa Topa Bluffs The Bluffs are a magnificent sculpture created by nature . The ever changing light creating shadows and reveling it details and colors . As a boy growing up, my family home sat at the base of the bluffs in Bear Canyon. We had no neighbors between us and the Los Padres Forrest. My brother and myself would often hike up to and on top of the Bluffs from our home . Now as a artist I continue to explore the Bluffs in its many designs ,colors . Its bold shapes creating ever changing shadows leads me to designs that can be translated into Art . This exploration can lead to dramatic shapes and designs and playing with the dynamics of color . I don't know where this exploration my lead me but I am enjoying the Journey.

Last night the Santa Ana winds were holding steady, so the skies above the ocean were very, very clear. Lucky me. It was the perfect opportunity to get in a little bit of rocket photography practice. I used my Sony A7RIV camera and 24m lens. The timing for launch was ideal. Sunset was at 7:23pm and launch was 7:50pm. So the launch was during nautical twilight. Beautiful sunset colors were still in the sky. Colors from the rocket plumes were reflected in the ocean. The ocean waves are blurred nicely thanks to the long exposure. There is always a big gap in the plumes during stage separation. Next time, I'll try my 20m lens to try to get more of the "jellyfish effect" in the left side of the frame.

I’ve been working on an oil painting for a friend who recently lost her dog. To capture the essence of the painting, I needed a studio model, so my doodle Trudy was happy to posed for me. The painting is called “Doodle Romping and Hiking.”

I have been painting cowboys lately. I can't get back to Africa so I'm painting what is in front of me. The dusty trails, the dusty corrals, the dusty pastures---am I attracted to dust? Then on my way to play pickleball, I saw this perfect rose and could not resist.

For inspiration leading to one of my first paintings made this year, I visited a big nursery. It was a wonderful place, packed with plants and warmth. That place belongs to a man who has great plant knowledge; how they grow, when they bloom and what their proper names are but also a great love of those plants in his care. I was so drawn in by that environment and so inspired. I have great love of the paintings I create. The shapes and colors and the birds and insects; the design. So here is "The Traveler and the Messenger", a brand-new painting for this year.

My cat ashes is hard at work helping me in my studio. I am painting like crazy to get ready for the Second Saturday tour April 11. Will I ever get this mess cleaned up!

Something I have pondered on for a long time has finally gained momentum. A pedestal is being made and will be viewable for the OSA April 11th Second Saturday. Come by and see what I am talking about. Plus, enjoy a stroll through my spring garden

It’s a long way from Ojai, but my piece “Electric Ladyland” is up now at the Everywoman Biennial in New York City! It’s an incredible salon style show at the Pen and Brush Gallery, 29 East 22nd Street, open every day until April 11th. There is so much inspiring work filling the gallery, and a bunch of performances scheduled during the run of the show. In my light sculpture, “Electric Ladyland”, organic shapes and materials are interwoven with plastics and electronics, creating an abstracted fantasy of femin-ish utopia. This piece is part of an ongoing series exploring the intersection of nature and technology through layers and light.

Digging Deep to Find New Inspiration is my motivation for this Blog post and likely this year. I've been invited to stay with a friend in Thailand and visit Vietnam in May. I'm turning 77 in April and want to explore some of the ancient carvings in these two countries. It is my goal to explore ancient temples carved out of Marble and Limestone mountains. I might even take a stone carving class in Nuoc Stone Carving Village. As my main support comes from the sales of my artwork, I invite you to book a trip to my studio or website and select gifts for yourself or loved ones from my stunning collection of HOLOS Amulets, or my sculptures and wall artwork. I will make it worthwhile, so find what you want and we will work out a way to make it happen. Many of my artworks can be viewed on my website: BrianBerman.art , and if you'd like to come see my artworks in person, drop me an email at brianlberman@gmail.com or text or What'sApp me at 360-620-1040. Please identify yourself with your namewhy you are reaching out to me, this will clear up any mystery. Many thanks for the 35 years of support from all the art lovers and patrons that have supported me through my art sales. I am humbled and grateful when you find my artwork appealing and meaningful to you.

This April, I won’t be open for Ojai Studio Artists’ Second Saturday. After months of living in between, our belongings are finally being returned following the fire just before Thanksgiving. The timing overlaps with Second Saturday, and I need to be present as everything comes back into our home—unpacked, checked, and, piece by piece, put back into place. The construction is mostly complete, and this marks a long-awaited shift: we’re moving home. I’m also looking forward to getting my studio back in order—over the past months it’s become a kind of “command central” for the construction process, with all sorts of things finding their way in that don’t normally belong there. It will be good to return it to a space for making. It feels significant in a quiet way. Not just returning to a space, but rebuilding a sense of order and familiarity after a period that has asked for a lot of flexibility and patience. I’ll be taking a break from unpacking to participate in Cross Pollination: The Intersection of Art and Nature—a plein air paint out at the Ventura Botanical Gardens on Friday, April 10 from 9–4. Admission is free that day, so if you’re in the area, come by and say hello. While I won’t be open for Second Saturday, I do plan to step out and visit some of my fellow neighborhood artists—many whose studios I rarely get to see since we’re usually all showing at the same time. Later, I may head back to the gardens as the paint out continues through the weekend. And just a few days earlier, I’m excited to be part of something new: I’m included in a group of artists from Studio Channel Islands Art Center now showing on Artsy, with an in-person exhibition opening April 4 from 4–6 pm. This show marks the launch of that program and brings the work into a physical space. If you’re not able to make it out in person this month, I invite you to visit my website. Any work purchased directly there supports something close to home—10% is donated to the Ojai Valley Land Conservancy. As a landscape painter, I’m deeply grateful for the places they’ve helped preserve. La Cañada Larga Road, in particular, is one I hold close—it’s hard to imagine it ever having been at risk of development. Supporting OVLC feels like a way of giving back to the land that continues to give so much. Thank you, as always, for your continued support—I look forward to welcoming you back soon, once things have settled. —Christine

I made this painting of my late husband Jerry (Walter J Taylor) many years ago, before we got married in 1984. I only painted occasionally then. I made my living as a graphic designer and product development art director, and loved it. Never intended to do anything else as a job. Jerry was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in 1999. As the years went on and his health as regards his memory and brain function declined, I became full-time caregiver during the hours I wasn’t at work. On the weekends, I started getting up at 5am, and driving down the canyon to Malibu, to paint. I could work a couple of hours and get home before he woke up, and begin my day as a caregiver. I don’t know why it was this that did it for me. I only tried it because I loved those little jewel-like oil color sketches done by the old plein aire painters of the late 19th and early 20th century—and I needed to do something to settle my mind from worry. We had a kid still in school, and a rapidly darkening future—but painting really helped me hold it together. The discipline of doing the work and not being attached to the result as anything other than learning—the act of being set up and ready when the sun came up—witnessing the beauty of the new day beginning and having the opportunity to feel that gratitude for my life and all the good things still in it—kept me sane. As I painted more and more, I started bringing Jerry with me on the drives. He’d settle in a chair with the dog, and enjoy the sunshine. It was sad, what was happening to him, but still many happy days too—we had a knack for that. We lost that dear man on the first day of 2009. We miss him like crazy. I'm still painting outside—still grateful!

This is my first landscape in Stained Glass mosaic. As every artist knows, perspective is challenging. I do love how the colors are just so alive in this piece. I want the viewer to be taken back to that moment in time when you are just gob-smacked by the scene you see. When your surroundings just make you stop and feel the power of the beauty in your bones. This what I love about Ojai. There is not a day that I am not swept up in the world around me here. I can breathe it, feel it, soak it up, and it is joy.

COLORSPACE 3D is a magical immersive installation by Carlos Grasso, reimagining the relationship between light, color, and spatial perception. Visitors will step into a dedicated room where a monumental 8 ft x 46 ft acrylic painting envelops the space, transforming as light shifts throughout the canvas. Unlike traditional light-based exhibitions, COLORSPACE 3D relies solely on acrylic paint on canvas (it’s not “Blue Light”), yet, as illumination changes, hidden pigments and tonal dimensions emerge, unveiling new visual harmonies and emotional resonances. When viewed through special 3D glasses, these transitions take on a luminous, kinetic quality, immersing viewers in a living spectrum of color and motion. “I wanted to create a painting that breathes… one that changes not through technology, but through the natural language of light,” says Carlos Grasso. “Each moment in the room reveals a different facet of the same image, reminding us that perception is never still.” Reception: April 4, 2026 10am-5pm Show Runs: April 4 - May 1, 2026. Location: Gallery 825 825 N. La Cienega Boulevard, Los Angeles CA 90069

I just finished post processing Milky Way Over Green Valley. To say I am thrilled with the final image is an understatement. This was a difficult shoot due to the time of night the Milky Way rose above the mountains. I woke up at the hotel at 3am, got dressed, slammed some coffee down my throat and drove out to the photo site. It was windy as all get-out. I used my car as a windbreak, but still the wind circled around my car. My usual workflow is to set up two cameras to shoot the Milky Way as time lapses with two different focal length lenses, but it was much too windy to do that. I set up my camera with the heaviest lens on top of my heaviest tripod. I stood next to the tripod with my hands ready to catch the camera if it was knocked over by the wind. I didn't know til I got the images on the computer if the stars were in focus due to the wind. I shot the foreground during blue hour to capture the beauty of the green mountains, then blended it with the sky with the Milky Way in it. Do you know why photographers do it this way? Because the sky and the foreground are two different exposures. If I expose for the sky, the foreground turns out black. Then what is the point of going to a place with beautiful landscapes if the foreground turns out completely underexposed. I must say I am impressed with my new Sigma 20m f1.4. It is outperforming my Sony lens. Shock! If you squint your eyes, you can see Morro Rock waaaay in the distance. I'll do a bit more tweaking to get it ready for printing. I'll have it printed for Ojai Studio Artists Second Saturday, May 9, 10am to 5pm.

I’ve been working on an oil painting idea that popped into my head last winter: a cool blue water reflection with a sunrise peeking behind a bare tree.

My living room glass doors look out over a wild landscape of rolling oak covered hills. It is the home of many wild creatures who also call it home. We keep a pot of water in the garden for them to drink so they know they are welcome at our house.. A large buck decided to investigate what was going on behind those glass doors so when I saw him standing on the porch just beyond the patio table--he was staring in the window as I was staring out--curious both of us.

When I was a kid, my mother and aunt used to have a line: "You make me feel like a million bucks." I've been using it for decades — and I'll come back to it in a moment. In both my working life and my creative life, there is a theme to what people share with me that I can distill to this: these are some very strange times. And I agree. There is a lot of suffering right now, for a myriad of reasons. Those "strange times" conversations almost always arrive at the same place — that we need more art, music, performance. Anything that gives us the chance to gently release whatever we find ourselves clinging to these days. I've been thinking about this a great deal as we lead up to the Mira Monte Second Saturday on April 11th. It is always a tremendous honor to share my work with this community. My intention has always been to help people unwind, let go, have a laugh — or even a good, solid think. But that intention feels more intensified now. Over the last two years especially, collectors have shared what it's like to live with my art in their homes and offices. What I keep hearing is that the work gives them a needed break. A release. A relief. A laugh. I understand, philosophically, how art functions as catharsis — it gives form to feelings that are too tangled, buried, frightening, or shapeless to face straight on. A collector recently told me she feels safe with my abstract expressionist portraits. Another wrote simply, "You do emotion unlike anyone else, Rich." In ordinary life, there is grief, fear, rage, shame, and longing — all of it can feel overwhelming precisely because it is our life, our pain, our risk. But I believe, in my heart of hearts, that art not only provides a safe distance — it also stands in solidarity with that life, that pain, those risks. It becomes a shared safe space. I know this from my own experience: a painting, a song, a film, a poem has let me enter complicated feelings without being crushed by them. I am deeply grateful that my work can do that for someone else — close enough to feel, far enough to survive the feeling. And that we can do it together. What's wonderful, as I prepare for April 11th, is that 99% of my work is done spontaneously. For me, it has always been about process over precious — process over product — and I think the fearless, raw energy I bring to the canvas is what people are resonating with more and more in these strange times. All of that, taken together, feels like a million bucks. I can't wait to see you all.

Making marks to leave a mark. Does the art grow from me or do I from it? Part of me is there. Part of me is here. Is it possible to be in both places at once? And still, I don’t know. This Saturday my studio will be open and questions will step into the room. Waiting for other sets of eyes to see what I have yet to notice.

In these turbulent times in our country and world, I find myself so aware of the comfort and presence I find in my creative process and in the natural world. Observing details and cycles in nature, and engaging in the meticulous process of creating my work with these small natural forms are a great respite. I'm looking forward to sharing the sculptures and jewelry I've been making, this Saturday March 14 -- OSA's first Second Saturday Tour of the year. I'll be in great company with 9 other artists in Meiners Oaks and the Arbolada neighborhoods. Come say hello!

A core element of my work is peace and connection, including wall and wearable art. My life and artistic path have taken me through many transitions - some tumultuous - yet this newest chapter is producing some of the greatest work of my career. Longtime peace activists, my wife Lisa and I relocated to Poland in 2022 to work with the One Humanity Institute supporting refugees fleeing the war in Ukraine. Many of my fellow sculptors were stunned when I sold most of my tools before leaving Ojai. For Lisa and I, it was a conscious step into the unknown - an opening to something new. Just before their departure, I collaborated with printmaker Linda Taylor to create a series of letterpress embossed prints. Using laser-cut templates, his geometric images carry an intriguing dimensional quality - an early bridge from his sculptural roots into wall-based work. While in Poland, I discovered how deeply he missed making art. I continued developing my signature HOLOS form, working with a Czech studio to produce cast-glass pieces from models generated with my 3D printer. When the slow pace of glass casting created delays, I began exploring new ways of “seeing” HOLOS. That exploration led to something unexpected. Using inspection-style filters (x-ray and wireframe views) I began generating stark white-on-black images that are both mesmerizing and beautiful. They became the foundation for a new 2D series centered on HOLOS: clean, luminous, and quietly powerful. Another personal transition has been my painful separation from my grandchildren. Turning again to art as a lifeline, I have been transforming 2D photographs into 3D-printed models of each child. “Not all my artworks are about beauty and peace,” he says. “But my intent is to find peace amidst these emotional challenges.” These new works will be on view at my studio this Saturday, March 14, alongside original stone, metal, and glass sculptures. I just returned my Tri-Portal sculpture to our garden of Peace, so please come and enjoy. I will have many 3D printed gifts for all. I will also be demonstrating my 3D printing process.

I feel so fortunate that I was able to photograph the total lunar eclipse just a few miles from home. Let me tell you, I was nervous it would be foggy. The previous morning, the skies were completely covered with fog and lasted til mid morning. But in the early, early hours (O'dark thirty) of Tuesday, March 3, the skies were completely clear. I thanked my lucky stars. I packed up the car and drove a few miles to the outskirts of Ojai, set up my tripods and cameras and began shooting the eclipse. I used my 600m telephoto lens, which resulted in a very large moon image with exceptional color and clarity. Add to the ambience were the voices of a few coyotes howling in the dark night. the sounds and sights were like a setting for a mystery movie or novel. The next total lunar eclipse for our area will be in December 2028.

The rhythm of the waves, sun warming the skin, a twirl , a taste of salt in the air. Perhaps a nod to Edgar Degas and his ballet dancers - changing the art world some 160 years ago - but impressionism still beloved by many. Or a nod to any young girl today, feeling the freedom brought by wind, a floaty dress and the song playing in her head. "Sea Dance" is oil on canvas, 24"h x 20"w. Drop by my studio this Saturday, March 14 from 10am to 5 pm for OSA's Second Saturday Open Studios. There are just 10 of us open on Saturday in the Arbolada and Meiners Oaks areas of Ojai.

I have been looking at Bespoke Vintage Wallpapers and Murals. I love the deep tones and subtle muted tones. I tried to capture this in my latests piece. The blues and lavenders in the flowers with deep emerald tones of the leaves. Then, just a pop of yellow/orange to make the centers of the flowers stand out. I hope you like it.

I am spending some quiet time in my studio this morning revisiting pitchers. Their wheel thrown bodies must be light enough to be usable when they are filled with liquid. The spouts must pour cleanly. The pulled handles should add grace and balance. It is a satisfying exercise in form and functionality.

We had rain this year and the flowers are all around. I got inspired to paint my cowboy husband as he trailed through the mustard that was taller than his horse.

Just back from our Big Sur road trip, and this time it was the calla lilies that captured me. They were everywhere, rising out of the hillsides with those sensual, sculptural curves. Back in the studio, what began as photographs became sketches, layered painted papers, and digital collage. Travel always leaves a trace.

I'm enjoying letting the inside peak out, creating portraits which speak volumes in a quiet, discreet way. Letting scraps of words, imagery, maps and musical notes breathe out from within one's portrayal. An assemblage of life's journeys, foibles and dreams, rising to the surface. Please stop in and visit my studio this Saturday, March 14, 10a-5p when I'm part of the mini studio tour featuring artists in Arbolada and Meiners Oaks.

On view at Integrity Wealth in Ojai through April 24, this exhibition brings together landscape drawings rooted in Ojai and selected works from my Dreamscape series. Together, they reflect two ways I move through place — direct observation and slow excavation — both shaped by the land that surrounds us. The drawings are grounded in observation. Many are based in and around Ojai — places I return to repeatedly because they continue to shift, subtly, with light, season, and memory. The Dreamscape paintings move in a different direction. They are less about a specific site and more about the felt experience of terrain — erosion, atmosphere, distance, and time. Supporting the Land That Shapes the Work Integrity Wealth does not take a commission on artwork sales. Because of that generosity, a portion of each sale from this exhibition — 20% — will be contributed to the Ojai Valley Land Conservancy. I’ve chosen to extend that same commitment to my studio practice as a whole: 20% of all original artwork sold directly through my website also supports the Conservancy. As a plein air and landscape artist — and simply as someone who loves being outdoors — I’m deeply aware that the places I paint are not guaranteed. They exist because people protect them. One place especially close to me is La Cañada Larga Road. There was a time when development felt imminent there. I remember hearing that and feeling physically unsettled — the thought that this open stretch of land, this quiet geometry of road cutting through hills, might disappear. That I might not be able to stand there again and look out across that space. The Ojai Valley Land Conservancy raised the funds to purchase and preserve it. Now, as with so many protected landscapes, the need is ongoing — stewardship, maintenance, care. Preservation isn’t a single act. It’s a long-term promise. If my work is rooted in landscape, it feels only right that the work also gives back to it. Additional Exhibitions I’ll also have work included in the Member Show at Studio Channel Islands Art Center, on view March 7 – March 20, with an opening reception at 4:00 pm on Saturday, March 7 at the Blackboard Gallery in Camarillo. And I’m part of a curated group of present and past Artists in Residence at SCIART, now featured on the Artsy platform. The collection highlights regional artists exploring a range of mediums and approaches, expanding visibility beyond our immediate area. Closing Thoughts When I think about this season of work — drawings made from walking the edges of Ojai, paintings built slowly in the studio, conversations happening in galleries and offices — it all comes back to one thing: attention. Attention to place. Attention to memory. Attention to what could be lost — and what can still be protected. La Cañada Larga Road is more than a subject to me. It’s a reminder that landscapes are not permanent unless we choose to care for them. The fact that it remains open — that I can return again and again to draw it — is not accidental. It’s because people acted. The work currently hangs in a space devoted to planning for the future. In a small way, this is my version of that — reinvesting in the land that shapes the work. If you’ve ever felt relief stepping into open land… If you’ve ever had a place you hoped would still be there tomorrow… Then you understand why this matters to me. I hope you’ll stop by before April 24.

After a super great studio tour last fall in my new studio, I was invited to collaborate on a new gallery in town with Lulu Sherman, Stephanie Hubbard, and Jojo Anderson. We set up Still Gallery, had a beautiful show for four months and decided to move the gallery online. stillgalleryojai.com February and March I will be at Taft gardens and nature preserve for my residency. The studio I am working out of is a dream come true. I am surrounded by a canopy of oaks and endless plants and succulents. I hear birds, frogs, crickets, squirrels and the creeks. It’s seriously a magical place. I highly recommend visiting. (And then you can visit me) And the show at Beatrice Wood Center for the Arts is still up for a bit longer, so go check that out. And some other things going on which I’ll share soon!

I went to Karen K Lewis's studio last year ( huge fan) and saw a painting she did of pumkins and gourds. I stared at it and realized that I have all of this mottled and rippled glass at home. I asked her permission to do a mosiac of the piece, and she kindly agreed. Well it has taken almost a year and finally I have finished it. It is 2x3 feet and I love it. It is chunky, ripply, mottled, and vibrant! Thanks Karen!

My last blog shared our family alienation crisis that began last June. These last 8 months have begun an exploration of health challenges and finding new ways to help me express what I'm personally going through. Not all my artworks are about beauty and peace. Though my intent is to find peace amidst my health and emotional challenges. On that blog it was using a photo of my grand daughter and creating a reduction wood carving and letterpress printing class with Linda Taylor. I then shared turning photos of my grandchildren into 3D models that I printed on my 3D printer. Not all prints are successful. In the gallery of images you can see one of the failed prints. I saved it as a model of when life shows up in ways that can't be controlled. In my last class with Linda, the prints has a registration misalignment that one of my friends said was a perfect example of what your family is going through. The 3D print failure I have in the gallery similarly expresses that. I needed help with my health and my helplessness, so I asked my health insurance for support and I began working with a therapist. I haven't felt the need for therapist help for 3+decades, and I really took a turn as 2026 began, as my life boat was filling with water. I wondered with worry if my life would end and the family alienation would continue. As a peace builder, I was needing support and with the helping hand of this therapist, I'm doing much better as I use art, and my life experience to help heal myself, and my family. I have lived by this creed, Art Heals Lives. I drew the image of "Tsunami of Grief and Loss" and that was really helpful. I also felt that this image might resonate with others going through similar emotions, with what is going on here in the US and other parts of the world. My therapist asked me how I see myself in a couple of years. I said that I will be of great support for those that are going through what I am navigating now, and I can be of help and support for them. I was then invited to take a still life painting class with master painter Carlos Grasso. "Moment of Solace" was the result of that class time. With the intense concentration in representing what was the still life model, it helped keep me in the present moment and release my emotions from the past and future. Though this was my first painting experience, I could see the value of this being a mindful practice. Not about making art for sale, but making art for healing. After another therapy session examining and inquiry of my Tsunami drawing, the questions arose about "What's Next". The images that came up were about my lifeboat sinking, and I might not live to see my grandchildren again. I created the image of my "Heartache". This was a photo montage created in Photoshop. This helped me release much of my emotional sorrow, and once it was visually expressed, it no longer weighed heavily on my heart. Next I imagined a still life model with my granddaughter for Carlos' next class. I've included the model, but I didn't take a process photo. Will see how well I can express this model in future classes, or maybe I go back to painting vegetable and fruits. I've left town for a few days to retreat and break free from my dailies. I'm hopeful that I can explore artistically, what's in my heart and what's next for me. I will have a display of these images and models for the Second Saturday mini tour March 14th from 10-5pm, just a month away. Thanks for reading my blog, and I hope to see you next month at my Mini Tour. If you don't get to see a map, usually posted on the OSA Website a few days before the mini tour.

I've painted people going about their daily lives all over the world. I've rarely painted at home in Ojai before. Our beautiful town attracts people from all over so I decided to pass the day watching people enjoying Ojai's Libbey park and arcade. So nearby and such a treasure.

It's almost Valentine's Day, when love is in the air and red heart balloons are filled and ready to float aloft. This year, while my love life is still full and bright and shiny, the state of our country doesn't seem so. This painting of a red heart balloon, stuck mid-air, semi-deflated, speaks quietly to the times. 8" x 11" oil on paper, framed.