I don’t remember sensing how cold  or hot it was, only the feeling of anticipation. The time of day or the hours, the minutes didn’t matter, as I felt that bundle of warmth and life next to my heart. The joy of my daughter, the curiosity of my granddaughter, and the taken-on responsibilities of a son-in-law, now father. I was as close to heaven as one could get in that small and cozy hospital room; a new sense was being awakened. 

The days waned and sped as I looked forward to spending every living breath as close as I could to theirs. The happy moment of pulling into their driveway to relish and exhaust myself into these new , exciting and sacred lives is what gave this heart new meaning. To look at the lay of their eyes, fingers, toes, and expressions was a lesson in genealogy that no dollar could buy.  Old generations being brought into the new, a timeless look, my mother’s hand, and the sense of my grandfather’s smile. 

To imagine what looks, impressions, and relationships awaited, that initial imprint and unlimited visiting could achieve.  Lay in open unknown sensation yet to feel. 

As a mother, you are limited by youth, lack of time, and the pressures of life that can’t be taken away. In your second half, you gain the wisdom and start to understand that life goes on in better ways.  Fleeting beauty has passed, and the best part of life and love makes a second attempt to take in the moments that  could not be taken back then. 

The lessons learned on the second round are taken in on sacred ground. A fresh look through lenses  and eyes of wonder, souls and minds untainted. There’s no rush of impending duties; gone are the pressures reflecting your parenting duties. The handprinted windows. The chaotic family wagon, unmatched socks or crazy hair, or the failing grade that used to capture your attention. The  hurried past, now being healed as the moments lived, as is, each a treasure that can’t be taken. 

It’s the looks of love and the feelings of the heart that enrapture your attentions. It’s the senses in tune with the here and now, being treasured within an unknown eternal dimension. 

How could it be that life taken so young could burn a hole in your soul and take on a pain so intense, yet there is forever the feeling of the past being present . Each action taken in and whispered into an eternal breath.

 A soul formed from heaven, the sanctuary of time and space now opened, felt in the past and now forever present, in the newly awakened and sacred sixth sense. 

♥️Dedicated to my precious Grandson Rylan Frank Kolar -July 22nd 2023 to June 19th 2025

My husband and I had been enjoying some Easter vacationing and travels for the past few weeks. I was feeling the need to call my mom but had been unable to get a hold of her. We usually go to church on Sundays but that hadn’t been happening much either… although enjoying my travels I was starting to feel a bit guilty and anxious. I finally was able to get a hold of my little brother who lives with my mom in Mexico. We made a plan to face time my mom via setting up her I-pad. My beautiful mom is not only a widow but a mother of nine of us. Ailing from dementia, I was told by her nurse, that I was one of the few she still recognized. As I dialed the I-pad, my thoughts were racing, what if she doesn’t recognize me anymore; what if she decides not to know me or is upset!? Finally my mom’s face appears on my phone…She starts to smile and then squeals with delight, “it’s you, it’s you, you are so beautiful”! A rush of great emotions fills me up. She says a lot by not saying much. Then when my husband entered the room, she delighted in the way he kissed me and commented how happy she was that we were still together and how she liked him, too. The next day was my daughters birthday, and I decided to go to church and say some prayers for her (like my mom always did for me on my birthdays). I was running behind with all the traffic that morning and starting to feel anxious. I was looking to make my turn and saw the familiar form of the Cross on the dome. I suddenly felt like I was coming home. As I walked into the church, I felt a squeal of delight and love light up in my soul. I’m feeling lucky! Mom’s and God are a lot alike… always happy and delighted to hear from you!

It wasn’t my first adventure with the Wyoming brothers and hoping it wouldn’t be my last! I hurried along and tried not to be annoying. I love the outdoors and hanging with My husbands bro. He always knows the coolest hidden places! They took a break from the hike to fish a few brookies and catch a beer. I was carrying my pack of paints and did a sketch of the creek. My heart took a picture of the brothers as the sun played with them and the fish they were catching. We resumed our hike. Greg said it been years since he’d been to these hidden waterfalls! He meandered around and my eyes kept entertained by all the wildflowers and bright patches of Indian Paintbrush. We continued into a deep canyon with a creek twisting through it. I strutted along noticing all the beauty and colors on the rock walls. As we turned a corner I heard a rush of falling water and my heart skippped a beat. A beautiful display of water sparkled through the colorful rocks, catching a few rays and and my heart cascaded with delight! Gosh, I’m glad they’re are still these hidden gems. Makes for a little bit of Heaven here on Earth! I want to go again so there ain’t no tellin’ where I painted this one!

The best part of painting outdoors (PleinAire) is being a part of nature. The beauty of the sun peaking through the trees, a field ripe at harvest sunset, the reverence of the Salmon River canyon, the majesty of the mountains. It takes me to place of awe and gratefulness. It’s like feeling the gaze of someone whom you love. When the Master of the Universe inspires me so, I take it in. It’s a place of beauty, peace and unity. It’s my hopes that through my paintbrush and canvas I can take you there ❤️.

I was recently in a PleinAire Competition in Driggs Idaho. It was much fun meeting many artists from around the country! It was fun but much work, spending many hours on our feet painting scenes inspired by nature. Also inspiring nature to bite, heat and sunburn it’s subjects 😅… I was painting with a long time friend of our family. A great artist and also a retired USAF. We took extra joy in having our children visit and gather for dinners. On the last day, I was wondering about doing one last painting?! I was feeling very grateful for the time spent in this all-American town with plenty of flags lining the streets. As I took one last walk, reflecting on the beauty of Our Country and our visiting sons, also in service of this country. The clouds began to loom, the winds blow and thunder began to roll. It reminded me of the hard times, divisions and all the bad news! I looked towards the Teton’s and there she stood, beautiful, colorful and not afraid and so I painted her! She’s the symbol that will always inspire me and she still stands for Freedom! God bless America 🇺🇸

I’m sure we’ve all been somewhere and seen something that tears at your imagination. Sometimes it brings a feeling of peace or maybe even fear or terror. I’ve been to a couple of old buildings in my youth or even in Mexico that have given me a very uneasy feeling. Yet there is something about old barns that seems to stir a feeling of warmth in me. I grew up on an old farm and enjoyed playing with our goats, gathering eggs and riding horses and sometimes the cows. The barn was always a place to play and enjoy friends and animals. Most people that have barns build them to protect their animals and store food for them. If you are riding a horse, that horse always knows where the barn is! It’s people caring for the animals and in return the animals provide milk, eggs, and even their own bodies to nourish us. Of course there’s always the old barn cat chasing the mice who’s been a stealin’ the grain. The barn, for me, is the circle of life. It’s the warmth of people caring for their animals and the great stories of the animals that lived in them.

I’ve always admired beautiful architecture. Like the Eiffel Tower in France or the Golden Gate Bridge that crosses the San Francisco Bay. It’s another form of art. In this case it’s a “piece of work” set in a beautiful canyon “palette” on the Salmon River in Idaho. I saw the old wooden bridge taken down with a heavy heart. Then as I watched the new take place, I was in sheer admiration how the crew seemed to defy the laws of nature! Huge machinery clinging precariously to the canyon walls! The men working them were the brave and the strong. I was in awe as I saw pieces of metal and cable transform into a beautiful and well engineered bridge. The work of human hands set into a beautiful canyon. As I painting in this place I felt God and man had worked together and the place I was standing seemed to like a beautiful Cathedral, a place of reverence.

I’m not sure why, but it seems every year around Holy Week, something happens that makes me struggle. There’s a hardship, a challenge a pandemic, something?! Although I’d like it to go away, I’ve found that if I lean into it, I find a contemplative space and a place of creativity and compassion towards all those who encounter sufferings or hardships. We are all on this earthly journey together. As a Christian Nation who better to identify and unite sufferings than the figure of Savior. A God-man that used his powers to heal, who could’ve used those same powers to destroy those torturing him . Why suffer… is it because we know a better good can be accomplished or to show love, a way to unify?! Easter Sunday, is around the corner. For now let me just sit here, take it in and look at the face of love.

It was a beautiful snowy morning. I was busy packing for my travel to visit familia in Mexico. I knew this would be my last chance to capture a winter scene. I put on my winter boots, warm layers, backpack full of paints and whistled for my faithful dog. As I trudged thru the snow I couldn’t help but feel the exhilaration of spring on the horizon. I noticed the robins were back, flashing their bright red breasts, woodpeckers were making a racket in the trees. My dog was delighted to catch a few sleepy groundhogs (sorry hogs). I knew the scene I wanted to capture and was looking for a good spot to paint. My mind wandered to my husband, an avid outdoorsman and excellent hunter. His hobby was usually successful and brought us much meat. As I trudged home I felt very grateful for the abundance of scenery. I felt connected to nature and to all who enjoy the outdoors. I had completed my painting. That evening, gathered around the table for our meal of venison, we bowed our heads and prayed. It was a ritual we’d grown up with and taught our children. Mike and I were the only ones gathered (with our dog at our feet). I felt our words of thanksgiving echoing throughout all our previous generations. So to the future generations I say…Whatever it is you do, life is better with a prayer and a grateful heart?

After several days of gloomy winter weather. Mike said let’s go for a drive. We loaded the grown kids, the dogs a couple of brewskies and I snuck in my backpack full of paints as Mike threw in his fishing pole. We drove an hour up the mighty Salmon river till Mike saw a good fishing spot. He immediately got to his spot as the rest of us literally slipped thru the rocks and mud. I found a good view of the river, set up my paints and balanced my beer on a rock. The kids started the rigmarole of starting a fire in a drizzle..Mike missed the only fish in the river, the kids blew a couple of lungs trying to get the fire goin’, the dog was shaking like a leaf. My paints were dripping off the pallet and as I reached for my beer I knocked all my paints and brushes into a crack in the rocks. As I looked at the crazy scene in front of me, it still took my breathe away ! I gazed at the incredible beauty of the majestic river and everyone I loved displayed in my view. I finished my scene in studio, smiling at the memories.