Monthly Archives: February 2023


Today I worked on a painting. It felt so good, so comfortable, to play with shapes and colors again.  This is my home, but it is a new home.  When I stood before my easel with a paintbrush in my hand, I thought how much this place reminds me of my old house. For decades, I had painted in my basement. I had LED work lights, but I still painted in the basement. Today I painted in the bright sunlight.  I guess it’s my stuff that makes this feel so familiar.  My furniture, my art box full of brushes, my books and cats all fit perfectly here.  I just had to figure out how the pieces went together.  The last month and a half have felt like a vacation. Now the newness is a fresh routine, and I can get back to being me again.

Baked branzino
Mediterranean Medley
Rainbow trout with Maryland crab cakes
Kim chi and fresh mozzarella
seared yellowfin tuna


I think it’s so funny how people freak out about weather forecasts for me up here in Northern Minnesota.  My family down south calls to warn me.  I live up north.  I expect winters to be cold.  I expect snow.  This is normal.  Even my friends up here seem to panic when snow or winds are coming.  It’s ok!  I have plenty of food in my kitchen.  I have a snowmobile and a sauna.  My house is cozy.  I go out when I have to.  Sometimes my car gets stuck.  I chose to move here a long time ago.  I still choose it.


I’m my own valentine this year. That’s nothing new.

I’m learning to take care of myself, which is important. I’ve come through a difficult year.

I find myself in a new town, in a new house, and though I’ve only moved 2 1/2 hours away, a new life.

I’ll be starting a new job soon. I’ve been accepted into college again. I’m eating better, relaxing more, and using my sauna a lot. Every day for the first month, and now about every other day.

I have a to-do list, but it’s things I want to do. My errands revolve around fixing the house up and feeding myself.

I thought I knew what I wanted to do. I thought I was settled and content over the last decade. Random things happened to uproot me and chase me out. It’s not a failure to leave after saying I’d stay. Forces greater than ourselves insist we make a change. It’s a risk.

Thirty three years ago, I got married. We said it was forever, but it wasn’t. No regrets. We are both in better places that we couldn’t have predicted.

The road to get here has been difficult. All of us suffer on the road of life. Today is a day that I can say it was worth it. That washed out road with all its perils has been so much more than the way to this destination. The road has been the life.

Nothing to Prove

Earlier this week, I listened to a podcast about one hit wonders.  The show was really about creativity.

I’ve never had a global hit, but on a small scale, I’ve had multiple creative successes in my life.  Back in 2000, I came up with Flash Meridian, which was featured on TV, in magazines and newspapers here in Minnesota.  I’ve kept going with that story ever since.

At some point I began painting fish in the branches of trees, and people responded to that.  Success was measured in paintings sold.

The podcast pointed out that many artists (musical, visual or otherwise) don’t have a follow-up success because they fear not living up to the initial success.  Those who are successful after a hit, often stick with the same style or theme, and are not able to venture out into new styles.  They stick with what worked for them before.

My successes in life are measured by my own arm’s length.  I do what I do and sometimes put it out into the world.  I am free to create whatever I want to, and the only expectations that have limited me have been my own.

I am blinking in the light of a new city.  No one knows me here… yet.  My happiness in life does not depend on notoriety in a new town, but it will be interesting to see how my vision can translate.  I have nothing to prove.