
Behind Powers’ Market (My First Painting Ever), 6 June 2002, oil on canvas board, 11″ x 14″
6 June 2002 was the first time I ever held a paintbrush, felt the creamy texture of oil paint on canvas. This is the first painting I ever made. It was with my friends, Stella and Sophia—incredible painters both—behind Powers’ Market in North Bennington. They painted the lake and the waterfall. I painted the dumpster and the parking lot. And my life was forever changed.
That day Stella lent me her supplies, but the week following I made my first art supply order with all the money our family couldn’t really afford to spare. Subsequently I changed my work life, my daily routines, the way I related to everything in order to accomodate this new love: Painting. Fortunately for me, my daughters (now both amazing artists in different media themselves) and my beautiful husband were willing to make room, too. It hasn’t been without extreme challenges at times. Part of being in a true family, in a real relationship, is accepting people for who they are, accepting what matters to them and making room for each person to be themselves while also keeping the family alive and making sure no one of the couple is bearing more than their share of the emotional, physical and psychological and spiritual expense. Above all making sure that the well-being and best interests of the children are the number one priority always. At the same time the parents must also continually evolve their own interests and identity—both in service of themselves, but more importantly so that their children have a model for how to live in the world. How to be one’s own true self and live one’s own life. We teach by living. No one can ever understand from the oustide what the exquisite delicacy, creativity and balance, ecstasy and pain of this means: Only those involved on the inside do. It is the ultimate “golden mean”. Eight years ago today I painted my first painting, and, by the grace of my family strength, love and life, I’v e been making artworks almost every day since.
I will forever be grateful to Stella Ehrich for opening that artistic door for me.
Jon just called on his way home from fly fishing with his college buds in the Adirondacks and asked me for a painting for his friend’s camp. He said, “Even though it’s your painting, it’s also a piece of me in it.” No truer words.
Happy anniversary to us all.












