Category Archives: a work in progress

Click on the title of the blog post to view the entire entry.

Panama City


***bearing witness: they are just… waves***

bearing witness

to the drama

the exhaustion


the blame

the hurt

find someone to weigh upon

to give a prop


sometimes they are just waves

gentle little waves

the wake of the passing boat

on a steamy afternoon

it was just being a boat

that is what it is. that is what it does.

not intending any harm on the shore

just being a boat.


would you ask a boat to not pass?

a motorboat to use an oar?

to share the same space yet to not exist?



***bearing witness: twisted world/cold branches ***

Twisted World/Cold Branches


My recollection is fuzzy

but it cannot be erased

i know what happened


The trees

the sky

the birds

bear witness


***bearing witness: nighttime surveillance***

if a tree falls in the woods

and no one is there to hear it?

did it actually fall?


this goofy cliche has been in my head

it came up as a joke

but the truth is

someone is ALWAYS there to observe

i can only imagine this phrase was created to serve the needs

of a sociopathic narcissist

because isn’t it obvious that

the sky bears witness

the insects bear witness

the birds bear witness

how convenient to think another being doesn’t lurk in the shadows

and that any crime can go undetected?


oftentimes people think they get away with their actions

they claim ignorance

say you are too sensitive

shift the blame

and manipulate the naivety of another.

when a gesture was omitted. out of spite

i saw the spite.

I might not have recognized it until later.

but I never forgot.

I saw the intent.

when a hardship was put upon another. out of spite.

i saw the spite.

and so there is always someone to bear witness

to the jealousy. to the spite.


under the cover of dark

using my infrared camera

and my infrared flash

i blended with the landscape

but i came and went nearly undetected

i have the proof

of the things that seemed hidden

forever saved

in 0’s and 1’s

in a language that is irrefutable.


***i found my forever home***

moves are always a sizable interruption

and as a moody artist

i am particularly prone to distraction

so i am happy to say that i have moved

to my forever home.

i have my own studio

i call it, appropriately, PRBarn

and after the gap of decorating and organizing

is giving away to project time

i am happy that i am working in several aspects of my ADHD art world



and so i will share a photo of my new life

a quick trip to Costa Rica

a simple graphic image

to get my online presence going again


***midlife crisis: don’t know what i don’t know***

as if emerging

from a windowless tunnel

i am about to end up in a place

for which i haven’t been prepared

i can’t see

what is about to come

my dilated pupils

shocked by the light

and i will be spit out

leaping from 28 to 42

in seconds


don’t know what i don’t know

until i have to respond to it

DSCF0239-Edit copy


***flying around the world***

_IRM3736-Edit copy

***midlife crisis: what if?***

I started to ask

What if?

_IRM3616-Edit copy


***midlife crisis: washing out to sea***


i have had an irrational fear of water

since I was a tiny girl.

My fear of water lasts longer than my memory

with fuzzy bits of a flash

popping up

to remind me of my paralyzing panic.

I would become hysterical if my mother ran the bath

and left the room

certain that the tub would overfill and flood the house.

screams for help

she told me i was silly

and went to do the dishes.

I experienced my most memorable nightmare

when I was five.

In the dream,

our two story house flooded with water.

But my fear extended to any source of running water.

I was in first grade

before I was willing to turn on the faucet by myself.

When I was 7, I still refused to take a shower alone.

One time I turned the faucet the wrong direction and the water did not turn off.

My irrational outburst was from utter terror.

As I got older

I had no interest in swim lessons.

When I was in fifth grade I had to attend emergency lessons

because I could not swim.

It was literally called

‘drown proofing’

and mandated by our public school district.

And, in junior high I was the last person to finish the required 200 meter swim.

I would move my arms

and kick my legs

yet somehow remain stationary.

If i can’t touch the bottom,

I don’t go in.

I don’t do cruises.

And, I kindly ask that flight attendants

give me a xanax

before possible preparation for a ‘waterborne landing’


the thought

of impending failure


being washed out to sea

A treacherous notion


nothing to grasp

to save me from drowning

my panic

taking hold

and the fear

that I will never again be able to touch

what if I have taken my last step?

but failure is not a bathroom sink

for which the tap can be turned off

to insulate me from the unknown

and the wonderful irony of the situation

is that the only way to experience the exhilaration of success

is to bob along in that blue water

for the ocean is the place of calm beauty

that somehow powers my creativity.

All I can do

is balance

and have the will

to challenge the rip current

longer than it

challenges me.

_PRB4977-Edit copy

***midlife crisis: woman versus herself***

the conflict

of this story

exists only in my head.

i put my feet up

and lock on the brakes.

go join them.

find the others like you.

i can’t.

they aren’t.

i don’t know how.

where are they?

the right ones?

who will like my thoughts



I put on the brakes

and hid in the distance.

_PRB5244-Edit copy

***midlife crisis: here we are, again***

9 times in 19 years

so many moves

so many transitions

starting over


and again

i have no roots

i don’t know anyone

i lack connections

my reputation from so much hard work

is empty

wading out alone

this time

my endurance is flat

my spirit is low

hope used to guide me


i fear to actually admit

it seems to be gone

to start over


i am not sure i have the strength

_PRB5261-Edit copy

***2 years a hag***

This is a recreation of a self-portrait I created 7 years ago….

it is called

2 years a hag


_PR33711-Edit copy

 here is the image from my pre-hag days


***midlife crisis: barriers***

peering up

finding a way

to spot a barrier

so I may stay where it is safe

I can find a barrier

for almost anything

I can think about that


_PRB5110-Edit copy

_PRB5107-Edit copy

***midlife crisis: alone on the beach***

alone on the beach


it is just a day

not vacation

merely tuesday

merely sand

merely water

it is always strange

when what was so sought after

becomes every day

_PRB4937-Edit copy _PRB4936-Edit copy _PRB4982-Edit copy _PRB4975-Edit copy _PRB4947-Edit copy

***midlife crisis: California Drought***

California has been in drought conditions

since I moved here

it must be something in the air

i have been forcing my own creativity

all this time, also.

living in Europe was easy

my vision was fulfilled

every time i left the house.

But the struggle I have felt

finding a new vision

has strengthened me as an artist

or so it may be said.

but intentionally emptying the fountain

may be a drastic measure

to solving the drought.

perhaps a change in direction

a new innovation

might be more effective.

going dormant merely solves

from scarcity.

i don’t know what to do.. so i will do nothing…

no no no.

i don’t know what to do… so i will transform my resources and make a change

yes yes yes.

_PRB4863-Edit copy