Pages from the Journey

An art journal of place, presence & experience. I often travel with a journal and a small collection of art materials.

These pages become a place to respond to where I am—not so much by painting what I see, but by allowing something of the experience to move through me and onto the page.

Color, marks, fragments of landscape, memory, sensation and imagination find their way in. Sometimes I begin with something I’ve seen. Sometimes I simply begin, without knowing where the page will take me.

They are intimate pieces, made in the midst of living and traveling—visual traces of places that have touched me.

Teotihuacan, Mexico

There is something about returning to Teotihuacan that invites me to listen differently.

Walking the sacred grounds, I find myself responding not only to what I see, but to what I feel—the earth, the ancient forms, the immense sky, and the layers of presence and history held in this place.

These pages emerged during my time there in October 2026. I think of them less as paintings of Teotihuacan and more as impressions gathered while being there.

Cabo, Mexico

Cabo brought an entirely different language to the page.

Water, stone, horizon, brilliant color and the constant movement of the sea began finding their way into the work.

Rather than trying to capture the landscape, I found myself following its rhythms—the shapes of rocks, the openness of water and sky, and the feeling of being surrounded by so much movement and light.

These pages hold something of those days by the sea.

Italy

In Italy, my journal became a way of slowing down and looking.

A hillside town, a house tucked into the landscape, the shape of a roof, a bell tower, trees and fields passing by—sometimes I would simply stop and begin.

These pages were made quickly and intuitively, allowing watercolor, line and gesture to hold something of what was in front of me without trying to capture it precisely.

I love the looseness of working this way. There isn't time to perfect or reconsider. I look, my hand moves, and somehow the experience of the place finds its way onto the page.

They feel less like records of where I traveled and more like memories made while I was still inside them.