I'm looking at a painting I just finished. Its of a great blue heron that is landing on rocks that are just beneath the waters surface. Most of the time when I see a crane they are moving with precision, hunting. This time, my camera caught it with his feathers ruffled and wings arched like a rainbow in the air.
I started 2025 with the hope of focusing more on painting the things I love, in addition to the commissions that I enjoy. Part of my core mission as an artist is to share wonder. Every creative effort begins with wonder.
One of my greatest sources of wonder is the gulf. For over 35 years, Gary and I have taken annual trips to the Gulf Coast, even during times when we had very little money or time to spare.
I’ve amassed thousands of photos from these trips. With such a rich resource of natural inspiration, I decided this year to dedicate an art collection to illustrating some of those magical moments in Destin.
I completed my first piece last week while Gary, Syd, and I were all battling COVID and the flu. Between long stretches on the couch and running tea and meds to the others, I found some time to experiment with my new Inktense Watercolor Pencils and some traditional watercolors. My goal was to illustrate the incredible movement captured in the photo of that stunning blue heron.
Herons fascinate me for their quiet, intentional movements and their obliviousness to their solitude. They do everything with precision and grace. To me, they are the most regal fishermen on the water. Their colors seem to be borrowed from the worn docks and rocks they frequent, with generous contributions from the clouds, sand and sun.
I began this piece with a sketch to lay out the composition. Photographs always seem to taunt me because each one is so unique—it’s a challenge deciding how best to translate them into art. With each new design, I wonder if I will bring my vision to life the way I see it in my head.
The truth is that the magic lies not in the final outcome but in the journey—from wonder by the water to a kind of dance with watercolors on hot-pressed paper. It’s this quest that keeps me motivated until something beautiful emerges. The great blue heron, in all its glory, inspires endless appreciation. Every brushstroke feels like a small engagement with that wonder.
Once I finish painting, the technical work begins: turning my original piece into a shareable file. When I transitioned my career from designing homes to creating art full-time, I grossly underestimated how much there was to learn about the technology that is required to edit and and share my art online.
It was quite a learning curve to overcome, but the struggle was worth it.
Now, I can edit my originals digitally—erasing splatters without affecting surrounding colors—and create different sizes or isolate specific elements that work as accents for promoting the original on social media.
Once I have an edited file ready, I can quickly create a Facebook post or Instagram story to share what I’ve made and hopefully transport others to that moment on the beach. In the end, I have transformed a memory into a story.
Art has always been about connection—whether it’s connecting with nature, memories, or other people who see themselves in what you create. This year’s collection feels like an invitation for others to experience those quiet moments by the water that have inspired me for decades.
As I continue painting these scenes from Destin, Florida, my hope is that each piece carries a sense of wonder out into the world—a reminder of nature’s beauty and its power to move us all.