LIVING Simply. LOVING Deeply. RISING Gently-with AUTHENTICITY
Was feeling inspired again by my love of these noble creatures- a bit more colorful-practicing for a canvas and having so much fun with them-wanted to capture the spirit of a yearling or younger steed-how’d I do?
“THE QUIET WILD” (22”x18”) acrylic ink
There is a wildness that does not need to roar.
A strength that lives in gentleness,
a freedom that cannot be tamed.
And in the quiet of a single glance,
the untamed soul reveals itself.
Another painting today- while in Scotland I took MANY pictures (much to Lisa’s dismay 😂🙄) of the beautiful sturdy horses in the rolling fields bright green from the autumn rains, the heather breaking up the green with splashes of mauve and purple and this particular gray (maybe white? It was muddy out) beauty, mane longer than I’d ever seen, standing against the wind-mane whipping in every direction in wild abandon-
WHERE THE WILD HEATHER GROWS-20×20 mixed media
Inspired by a moment in the Scottish Highlands.
In a field beneath the Highland skies, he stood, weathered and wild, his long mane dancing with the wind.
Among the thistle and heather, where old songs linger and the earth holds its stories, there was a quiet strength in his presence.
A fleeting encounter, a lasting memory.
Some places never truly leave us. They live on in the colors, the music, and the wild beauty we carry home.
chaos-leave me never, keep me wild and keep me free, so that my brokenness will be the only beauty the world will see
“UNBRIDLED “
She was never meant to be tamed.
Not by the winds that challenged her, nor the storms that shaped her.
She carries both strength and gentleness, -grace moving through shadows and gold.
And in the quiet knowing of her soul, she understands that freedom is not something to be given.
It is something she has always possessed.
Not simply freedom from something, but freedom to BE something.
To be wild. Gentle. Passionate. Independent. To love deeply, create boldly, and follow wherever life beckons.
She no longer seeks permission to be free. She simply is.
With light ✨Denise
I came home after a weekend of friendship, laughter and joy and felt creatively inspired-my hands just went to work totally “UNBRIDLED” and soulfully happy moving quickly with the charcoals, acrylic ink and a brush and bam! There she was my princess of the pasture-a compilation of photos shared by my daughter Candice, and my Iceland trip-
Unbridled-(22”x18” acrylic ink)
strength without aggression, freedom without fear, and a certain quiet nobility.
And I love that it has two meanings. A horse without restraints, yes, but also a spirit that refuses to be confined by expectations.
🍁 “Autumn, Unbound”-mixed media (I used modeling paste to give the trees the texture of bark-)
A painting about freedom, transformation, and the beauty of letting go.
She let the wind take what no longer belonged to her, and in the letting go, she discovered the wild beauty of becoming. -in light✨Denise
The trees let go without fear, (well truthfully, I never really asked them😉) and the forest becomes a symphony of freedom. There is a wild beauty in becoming who you were always meant to be.Walking down the trails, I envisioned this in my mind, I wanted it to be a painting about hope I felt walking in nature, healing, and finding your way through the seasons of life. Even beneath the tallest trees, the light knows where to find you….
You do not have to chase the light. Sometimes, you only need to stand still long enough to let it find you. Through every season, the light remembers the way to your heart.❤️ looking forward to celebrating the upcoming fall equinox and another season of discovery.
The leaves fall, the seasons change, and still the forest stands. A reminder that letting go is not an ending, but an invitation to become-UNBOUND
Finished it
I came to Iona for the beauty of the sea, I found something of myself upon its shore, a place where heaven seemed to meet the sea. Allow me to take you back to my Scotland travels last September and to the Isle of Iona-the ancient Celtic traditions, and the Abbey that was founded in 563 AD, intrigued by the spiritual and sacred nature of the isle, a very spiritual place said to “be a thin place”, has long been described as a place where heaven and earth seem to meet, surrounded by those extraordinary white beaches and blue Atlantic waters-it really did feel magical, reverent, a closeness, held, like a bit of heaven surrounding me as I sat in the warm sands, the gentle waves upon my feet – it indeed felt like a prayer
“You are the strength of the waves of the sea.”
— John Philip Newell, Celtic Prayers from Iona
There are places we visit, that somehow stay inside us.
Iona was one of those places for me.
This painting was inspired by a quiet beach on the Isle of Iona, where turquoise water meets white sand, wild grasses move with the coastal breeze, and a small red boat rests among the rocks.
I painted not simply what I saw, but what I felt—a sense of stillness, beauty, and that extraordinary place where the sea seems to meet the sky..
I heard it whispered to me on the breeze while on the Isle of Iona that sometimes beauty doesn’t ask to be captured—it simply asks to be remembered.
This is my memory of that shore.
Where Heaven Meets the Sea-Iona, Scotland
original artwork Oil on canvas
With Light✨
Denise
It’s been a while since I have posted any pictures of the art and creative endeavors I’m working on. Fear not, the creativity continues-I currently have about five or six pieces going (and TOO MANY SCREAMING and distracting me in my mind TO GET them all OUT at one time) -four of them, I initiated in one weekend!…. of course in different phases of completion -But decided to play with some acrylic ink recently …. Acrylic ink is a highly fluid, pigment-based medium suspended in an acrylic binder. It behaves like watercolor when wet but dries to a permanent, waterproof, and lightfast finish….this flower one I did by simply pouring water on my primed canvas and “shaping my puddle” with my fingers, or tilting the canvas, then adding and manipulating the color also by tilting-allowing that to dry and layering another color….what FUN and magic as the shapes, intuitions and “pieces” of creatively in your head seem to start connecting in the reality of space taking on an impression-creation-MANIFESTING- thought to reality-it can be a process or BAM! but WOW the finished piece😉😁take the initiative -we all have the power of manifesting what we think and dream into reality
Included an unfinished one I am also working on…
Yesterday’s progress…I’m happy dancing-when all the “mess” and chaos actually starts resembling something else…something that may end up to be beautiful -IS BEAUTIFUL -and JUST as it should be…my life echoed in art…when you encounter the “messy part” the chaos, keep moving through it to the other side but appreciate where you are -it’s about perception, some persistence in getting through the seemingly chaotic difficult phases, having patience, hope and lots of FAITH 🥰😉❤️there’s something beautiful in the moment and being created-hoping this reaches you …you know who you ARE and who you can just BE (stop waiting to become who you already are-beautiful in the messiness)
I have experienced some pretty amazing cab rides during my travels-each an adventure in itself…memories and moments not soon forgotten-you can really meet some very interesting characters in the short space of time in going from one stop to another…a few short recollections-
He pulled over to the curb in a shiny black Peugeot, barely stopping long enough for us to clamber in, and JUST enough time to close the door securely, before our taxi driver barely turning his head towards us, heard Jenna utter “the square” simultaneously and instantly accelerated forward, surging into traffic at a speed that left me grinning and Jenna, wide-eyed and quickly attempting to pull on her seatbelt. Darting in between lanes, as if we were in the latest Fast and Furious movie, we were tossed back and forth (I had not put my belt on yet) sending us knocking into each other and the safely (we hoped) closed doors of what we realized in a matter of moments, was a cab ride akin to an amusement or carnival ride…I took the briefest moment to observe him, our cab driver, as he honked repeatedly in irritation and squeezed by the stopping bus, again with a quick lane change, narrowly missing the taillight and bumper of said bus, darting into the left lane, and again accelerating as he slammed the manual stick shift into third, cutting narrowly and swiftly in front of the now moving bus, the very bus we were moments ago behind, another horn blaring -at us this time, I presumed from the annoyed bus driver. Our driver had dark glasses on (expensive), obscuring his eyes, his hand left the stick shift and began slowly twisting his mustache ends, one side then the other into a slim point of “cool”, not quite what we’d consider “handlebar” but similar in style, and it struck me just a bit comical, I had to fight down my giggle. He was an indiscriminate age, as with glasses I could not see any telltale lines, either laughter or of age, good skin, well kept hands, his hair short and neat, silver flecking throughout as with his well trimmed and shaped, longish goateebeard…all the while tapping the hand on the steering wheel to a Portuguese hit…we paused briefly at the red light, his impatience evident, yet he utilized the time productively I guess one could say, as reached for a comb across the stick shift by the glove compartment and began to comb and smooth his beard, briefly flipping down the visor mirror-did his eyes notice me smiling in amusement from the back seat while he was doing all this? He seemed to, but no expression was evident in his face and I could not see his eyes, just a bit of a head tilt indicating maybe he did?…the white T shirt stretched across broad shoulders as he reached back over to place the comb back in the cubby by the passenger side…the light turns green and we are jolted back in our seats again, as he weaves in and out of traffic, I found the whole thing greatly amusing, a bit thrilling even, and again had to bite back my laugh, as I study him some more, the many, many tattoos…almost a sleeve on the left, a cursive name “Filipe” on the forearm, what looks to be coins scattered as well up his forearm beginning low on the wrist and partially on his hand, a circle with a Batman emblem on the space between thumb and forefinger…my eyebrows go up…a bit surprised at this apparent DC comic reference…the faint smell of cigar and some spicy cologne, a not unpleasant combination …a very intriguing individual, fashionable jeans and shoes (the Portuguese have beautiful leather and cork products especially shoes.
…I will have to say best, if not MOST interesting cab ride and “cabbie” (almost…one other I can think of) to date…as he pulled over and Jenna very pale and wobbly, likely fighting down nausea as she often experiences car sickness, quickly climbed out upon the hot concrete and cobbled sidewalks-me exiting with a huge smile (though I did feel bad for Jen) -attempted to give a generous tip but he just waived it off, nodded and accelerated-maybe he had as much fun in observing our reactions to the ride as he had doing it – 🙄😂 as I said INTERESTING
I am coming into a place in my life and realized where perspective, experience, and accountability for my own healing have been somehow transmuted into small pieces of wisdom, humility.
To those I may have hurt or caused pain to throughout my life — unintentionally — I offer my sincere apology and ask your grace and forgiveness. I have always tried to move through life with grace, compassion, and without malice or intent to harm. But I also recognize now that there were moments when I was reacting and moving through life as best I could with my own unhealed wounds, traumas, fears, and pain — experiences “gifted” to me by life.
I have always believed that difficulty and pain, while deeply uncomfortable, can also be viewed in a more positive light, as a “gift”, becomes opportunities for growth, awakening, resilience, and spiritual rise. Not punishments, but invitations to evolve. (I’ll be honest, it somehow made it seem less burdensome to move through)
The truth is, none of us are handed a rulebook for life. No gameplay strategy guide. No cheat sheet explaining how to navigate grief, heartbreak, abandonment, fear, loss, or the complicated layers of being human and relationships.
Life sometimes feels like being handed a massive IKEA boxed up item with over 500 scattered pieces — screws, bolts, washers, strange little parts, scraps of fabric, and pages of vague instructions in a language you don’t recognize, or no instruction at all— and no clear image or picture of what the finished creation is even supposed to look like.
You try to assemble what you can.
Sometimes you think you finally figured out one section, only to realize later it was misaligned and must be taken apart and rebuilt differently. Sometimes the smallest, most obscure pieces — the ones that seemed insignificant — turn out to be essential to holding everything together.
That is what healing and becoming have felt like for me.
A constant process of disassembling, learning, reconstructing, and discovering where each fragmented piece belongs.
I am still assembling, creating-and I’m liking how it looks more and more!
Just reflecting today how far I’ve come…feeling alive and excited about possibilities-
It’s difficult at times to get a handle on the concept of time…to my very genuine surprise it has already been 3 years that I ventured to Portugal-a treat for my then 60th birthday and the 30th one for my daughter…it had long been heavy in my heart, struggling as a single parent, that vacationing and travel was not something we indulged in, past the occasional camping trip, coast trip or to visit family-it has been my desire to share experiences with and invite my now adult kids to join me on world exploration-and these birthday celebrations seemed appropriate as any time to invite Jenna to Portugal with me-at least the first week of it. Here are a few posts that popped up as memories this week of my May 3 years ago! Just what I refere to as my FB travel posts so very informal-
The Douro Valley is famed for being one of the largest and oldest wine growing areas on the planet, and is on the UNESCO World Heritage list …it was the destination our journey today, and the goal some port and wine tasting as well as history lesson…every corner, turn was a wonderous surprise, amazement-beautiful scenery, lush grapes and wonderful wine! It is difficult to describe the magnitude and scope of the many, many, terraced slopes and the steep grade of these rolling hills…
Wine production in the Douro Valley dates back to Roman times and owes much to the monks who revived the practice and cultivated vineyards in the 12th century…a few ruins of monasteries still grace the landscapes…as our guide pointed out on our river cruise after a tasting at one vineyard or also called “Quinto” (FARM also means “5” as they gave a fifth of what they made to the King) and before lunch…followed by another tasting at another quinto…
I learned so many fascinating facts and history about grape growing today…like how planting roses in a vineyard actually acts as an early warning system of disease for the vines…I won’t bore you with the particulars but if you need a tour guide for YOUR Portugal trip would gladly offer my services as a personal guide😉😁or ask me out for a glass of port and I will regale you with all I learned…
Porto Portugal…what an amazing time…the excitement and good energy of a tour, history, culture, food and drink interwoven and brought together by a superb guide and 6-8 personalities of others also interested in adventure and experiencing the country … gathered together from other countries, walks of life, sharing also their languages, culture and other travel experiences…the chemistry of our small tour groups exceptional…friends across a table breaking bread and sharing laughter become friends across a globe, sharing pictures, and contact information…connecting as humans on many levels and discovering similarities more than differences…
Bon dia…good day…the greeting shared with a smile and a nod throughout the day while walking and navigating Porto
…a delight all around…small restaurants and bars overflow to sidewalks as people occupy small tables or find a curb, a patch of lawn under an olive tree on the “living rooftop of our neighborhood” or lean against a building…drink in hand, often a cigarette…the tables ALWAYS set in a formal and welcoming manner with wine glasses beckoning the passerby to “come sit a spell, drink, eat, be merry for life goes fast so take it slow” as do the meals…do not expect our American way of “fast food and fast service” please go with the intention of an experience…the magic begins with dinner hours often 1930-2000 and can extend until midnight…the light of day fading as strings of lights on buildings and hanging overhead from one area to another begin to twinkle, lending a warm glow to festivities…Jenna and I thought just a weekend occurrence the crowds never really wane no matter the day, we came to realize the Portuguese do this EVERY night throughout the week…feeling nothing but safe wandering the neighborhoods at these later hours…it is also a VERY clean city…so many restaurants with cuisine of any sort and the ever popular local favorites…four legged friends welcome most places but only if very well behaved…Porto attire? Casual, relaxed and unpretentious, comfortable and practical footwear a MUST and rarely saw other than a good pair of walking/running shoes…
Our bags packed a last visit to a famed book store and we, with some reluctance leave our “home” the last five days and catch a cab to the train station…next stop Lisboa 🥰
So with a small tug of my heart…
Adeus, meu amigo Porto, obrigado… até nos encontrarmos novamente
(My Portuguese improved greatly 😉😁)
Rumored to be the inspiration of JK Rollins, library in the Harry Potter series, as she was a teacher at the university across the street, this little unique bookstore has become a “Mecca” for fans (though I had this on my list BEFORE I knew of the intrigue)😉😁 worth seeing despite the crowds as I LOVE a bookstore ❤️
Sometimes healing or happiness doesn’t arrive as one giant cinematic moment. Sometimes it arrives as:
-moving to a sunnier-feeling space,
-learning where the morning and afternoon light falls,
-neighbors offering patio chairs, FREE
-chatting to neighbors while they’re walking their dogs past while you’re sitting on your patio, kids running by and waving, joy on their little faces, laughter filling the air, or riding their bikes past
-protecting a beloved hostas from snail invasions, (the little critters have been really enjoying my poor plant-“rehoused” 3 off it this morning 🤨😳🫤
-getting dirt under your nails as you fill your planters and pots with color and life-softly humming to your new leafy friends
-meeting “watering buddies” willing to exchange watering care of plants when the other is out of town
-Walking barefoot in the grass outside your patio doors
-creating a “birdie haven” with food and water-the bees and butterflies also enjoying
-sitting outside in the evening feeling connected instead of isolated.
Those things sound small individually, but together they create a sense of BELONGING . A lived-in life.
Creating my patio biome-hummingbirds investigating the fuchsia and feeder area,
bees working the lavender and butterfly bush, songbirds using the bath even more than the feeder,
my patio becoming a little “pause point” in the neighborhood ecosystem. peace-
Does anyone else admit to talking to plants? I admittedly do-even sing to them-A lot more gardeners do than admit it.
Not because the plant understands words the way humans do, but because attention changes care:
you notice subtle changes sooner,
watering becomes more intuitive,
you interact more consistently,
you become attuned to light, soil, growth, stress.
Plants (like ANY LIVING THING) also genuinely respond to environment and touch in measurable ways — light direction, vibration, airflow, handling, pruning. So while they’re not “listening” exactly, your relationship with them absolutely affects how they grow.
There’s also something grounding in working with plants-(pun intended 😉🥰😄) -they return my care and I am filled with gentle peace, the joy of vibrant color and lush foliage, gratitude, symbiotic exchange-“learning their names” (in truth I name them but it kinda comes to me what they want to be called) instead of seeing them as decoration. It turns gardening into relationship rather than ownership.
And judging by my hostas, and the WILD GROWTH of my other plants, they seem pretty content with the arrangement. 🌿 in light✨-Denise
