"Spirit of the Bay" wins at state-wide "Art in Maine" exhibit

I'm delighted to share the news that my painting "Spirit of the Bay" won an award at the state-wide "Art in Maine" exhibit organized by the Boothbay Regional Art Foundation. 

Open to all Maine artists, the exhibit was juried by former director of the Farnsworth Museum  Chris Crosman. He selected 106 works from 216 submissions from artists statewide.

I had only just entered the painting days before the deadline — literally carrying the large painting into the foundation's gallery myself —  and then was thrilled to learn that "Spirit of the Bay" received third place and an award of $250. 

"Spirit of the Bay" is a portrait of Boothbay itself. That it won an award right in the foundation's Boothbay gallery and was selected by an esteemed Maine curator felt like kismet.

I'm sincerely thrilled!





Dear Virus

I have always been a lover of creation

But I don't know about you,

Lingering there in the darkness of my channels,

Creating a mess,

Making me dreary, weary of you,

Can't you move on --  find another world to live in?

I do my best to save the elephants, save the whales, save the polar bears,

But I don't know about you.



Finding Myself

If I find myself in the desert, let me not dwell on the burning sun and the parched earth,

But let me stand sleek and light like the solitary blade of grass,

Straining not to block the scorching winds, but bending gracefully,

Taking my sustenance from far beneath the hot sands where treasures have been laid,

If only I grow roots to reach them.


If I find myself in the deepest forest, let me be as the fawn, grazing where I might,

Sleeping where the grass is willing, listening to the wisdom of the trees in the stillness of the night,

Seeing not the dark loneliness but only the glint of moonlight

Silvering here a patch of leaves, there the lowly brush,

With the gift of hidden light.


If I find myself in faraway lands, let me be with simple people,

Eating as they eat, sleeping as they sleep,

Listening to their lives when I do not know their words,

Counting not the differences but seeing the self in each face,

The flicker of shared soul in even the strangest heart,

The holiness of eternal wisdom in one whose robes are different than mine.


If I find myself on the ocean, let me sail with what wind comes,

Gliding as the gull caught in a glisten of sun drenched droplets,

Held by the warmth rising up from the sea,

Rushing with a breeze cooled from somewhere else to take me on,

Mingling as a droplet within the wave

Unaware where I stop and others begin, only aware of the ocean we are, the effortless flow that sings through us as we reflect the light from above,

Striving to be crystal.

Summer Island Home


As though no time has passed,
As though winter never was,
As though she got along quite well without us,
As though she counts time in some other way and now we return,
We who worried through winter blows,
Worried that squirrels would chew her into chunks,
Worried trees would fall, winds would topple, tides would wash away what we so lovingly built,
But there she sits serene, quietly proud, more beautiful than we remembered, spreading her welcoming porches wide to greet us,
Like loving arms she embraces us.
Summer island home. 

Each Night While I Sleep

Defragmentations, assimilations, divine confrontations,

Bits of me.

Each night while I sleep

Pronunciations – was I just four?

Dancing with national geographic wolves? Flying? Trying? Spying? Crying?

Myself to sleep.

A series of specials.

Bits of me.

Each night while I sleep

De-laminations, re-combinations, soft titillations, re-incarnations,

Life’s strifes, trifles, stifles,

Aligning, refining, de-signing meaning

Bits of me.