My Story
1976 becoming a bona fide artist
My Artistic Journey
Creativity has always been my lifeline. It carried me through hardship, loss, and change. After college graduation and exhibiting in Wichita’s first Art in the Park in 1967, life took me into commercial art—first with Sanderson Films, then as the first woman artist at Cessna Aircraft. I even completed their flight ground school and flying co-pilot and as passenger on photo missions. But commercial art couldn’t satisfy the creative itch that only fine art could reach.
In 1976, I dove fully into the art world—painting, exhibiting, and showing in up to 40 events a year across 12 Midwest states. I worked with noted industrial designer Ben Baugh, painted live on public television, published poetry in calligraphy, and even explored cast paper and fiber sculptures.
Later, I moved to Washington with my husband Ray, a retired electrical engineer and chainsaw carver. Together, we created in the woods—a fairy tale life of carving, painting, and fiddle-playing in our Mt. Elinor cabin. When Ray’s health declined, we relocated to Idaho to help homeschool our grandchildren. Ray passed in 2014.
Since then, I’ve continued to paint—prolifically. From my tiny house in Nampa, I create daily, capturing Idaho’s spirit in small, original acrylics and oils. I don’t sell prints. Each painting is one of a kind. That matters to me.
I’ve come full circle—acrylic painting and back to oils, back to joy. At nearly 80, I still paint fast, plein air, or in my studio, with bursts of color and emotion. This isn’t just what I do—it’s who I am. And it keeps me going.
My story
Prolific A prolific artist at 80 Ageing Creatively at 80 no prints
Still Flinging Paint Like It’s 1975: The Power of Prolific at Almost 80
Some people slow down as they age. Me? I just paint faster.
I’m heading toward 80 this fall, and I haven’t stopped slinging paint, stacking canvases, or chasing the next idea. My body has slowed, sure—my hands cramp, my knees groan, and I sometimes forget where I was headed with the brush. But the creative force inside me? It’s stronger than ever. If anything, aging has concentrated my artistic energy, like a fine reduction simmered low and slow over decades.
I am, quite simply, prolific. Not as a brag, but as a fact. I paint daily. Sometimes dozens in a day. No prints, no copies, no automated series. Just one original after another, from heart to hand to canvas.
And yes, they’re originals. Always.
Aging Gracefully, Painting Fiercely
Getting older isn’t just about slowing down or adapting—it can be a superpower. I’ve had decades to refine my voice, deepen my palette, and understand the pulse of what moves me to create. I know how to follow an obsession, how to let my brain spiral in full royal flourish until a theme works itself out. And I trust that spiral.
Yes, I fight back against the toll aging has taken. But I don’t resist the wisdom, the clarity, or the intensity it brings to my work. I’m still standing. I’m still flinging paint like it’s 1975.
Why Only Originals?
I’ve watched the art world shift over my decades as a working artist. The market is flooded with giclée prints, reprints, and mass-produced canvas transfers. You can buy someone’s art printed on a T-shirt, coffee cup, shower curtain, and mousepad.
That’s not me.
I sell only one-of-a-kind original paintings, because that’s what I believe in. A painting should carry the energy, spontaneity, and spirit of its creator. Each piece I make holds a story, a moment in time, a flicker of something real. And there’s only one of them.
Collectors come to my booth and often ask, “Do you make prints?” My answer is always the same: “Nope. If it speaks to you, it’s one of a kind." no prints