Solitude, heartsease and victory

New paintings are now available at Meyer Gallery, Park City. I started these late last year in the winter when I was dreaming of springtime and of brighter days ahead. Like many others, I found great comfort through walks in nature, contemplating the beauty of the landscape. "Heartsease" is a poem by Christina Rossetti which…

New paintings of flora, fauna, love and loss

I am pleased to present three new paintings which will be included in my upcoming solo show in Santa Fe on December 4. Please contact the Meyer Gallery for availability and purchase inquiries at email: meyersfnm@aol.com or via phone at 800-779-7387 or 505-983-1434 In creating this series of work, I found myself drawn to twisting…

Masked Eros

"Masked Eros with Lover's Eye" 12x9 inches, oil on panel available at Meyer Gallery, Santa Fe Love's Philosophy by Percy Bysshe Shelley The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the ocean, The winds of heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a…

Bright Star

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art-- Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priestlike task Of pure ablution round earth's human shores, Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask Of snow upon the mountains and…

“Three Nests”

The summer nests uncovered by autumn wind, Some torn, others dislodged, all dark, Everyone sees them: low or high in tree, Or hedge, or single bush, they hang like a mark. - Edward Thomas "Three Nests" oil on panel, 10x8 inches $3000 Meyer East Gallery , Santa Fe

“Summertime”

Sonnet 18 by William Shakespeare Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And  summer's lease hath all too short a date. Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimmed, And every…

La Primavera

"Spring Quiet" by Christina Rossetti (1847) Gone were but the Winter, Come were but the Spring, I would go to a covert Where the birds sing. Where in the whitethom Singeth a thrush, And a robin sings In the holly-bush. Full of fresh scents Are the budding boughs Arching high over A cool green house:…