southern magnolia

I grew up climbing Magnolia trees, especially those at Duke Gardens, when we still lived in Durham.
The trees were so tall, and the branches perfect for climbing . . . you could go until it was just you and the sky. . . I know there is a picture of me, somewhere in the files, playing far up in one of those glorious trees, circa 1981. I went back with Mom and Dad in 2006, and sat in the branches of one of them, and the nostalgia was pretty heavy.

We planted a Magnolia tree in our yard in Shelby, around 1990. Now it is over forty feet tall and produces perhaps hundreds of giant fragrant flowers a year. Here's a watercolor I did of one of the pods, with one last bright red seed hanging on.


no pale imitation

I am selling original paintings, monoprints and drawings here. Many sizes and subjects and prices, but you can be certain these are the real thing, nothing copied, nothing scanned in, nothing printed out on my home office inkjet. Selling only originals is my response to the culture of commodification that surrounds us, in every sector, including the world of art commerce, particularly as manifest in the scores of art prints now available from artists who sell their work all over the great wide interweb. I took a hint from one of my wayward muses, Cat Power: if I have to cover my own tune, well, it ain't gonna have the same melody. Seriously folks (to add to that a sentiment from one who is not even my muse, but hey, Knows Things just as well): (since this world is killing me, killing us all) my aim is true.


one and one make three

These days and forever after, till maybe we make more humans, I have two sweet valentines. Before, two sycamore pods blessed our door, now there are three.