Since 1999 I have lived full-time on Cape Cod , dividing my time between my studio art and writing (which cannot be separated), and time spent absorbing Cape Cod’s great wonders: waters and woods, creatures and skies, weather and seasons. I also savor my Orleans career as a myofascial therapist and Reiki practitioner. The rest of my life is filled by my children and grandchildren, an old soul red dog called Grey, the sacred gifts that enrich each day and many treasured friends.


Some years have passed since I resumed painting following a hiatus of nearly 20 years. A few years ago I spent the month of February in a cottage overlooking Penobscot Bay in Northport, Maine. It was a personal retreat, designed with the intent of discovering whether I was going to resume painting in earnest or just give it up. I am now painting in earnest. For that I am most grateful.

More recently, again in the winter, I made another personal art retreat, this time in Provincetown.  Since then I have had a marvelous studio built in my home.  It is a full and busy place.


Here are a few words from a collector of my works:

“I have wanted to write ever since I gained two beautiful works of art.  As you know, the duck painting is where I can see it quite well from (a distance) and I do that, but I have also viewed it quite a bit close up, there is so much to see.  First of all, I’ve never seen that blue in the atmosphere on the Cape, or anywhere else for that matter unless a traffic jam that produces blue carbon dioxide fumes.  I think it’s quite beautiful so have pleasant thoughts about it.  The painting is part phantasy and part reality:  the viewer stands on the edge of the marsh seen in the lower left of the painting and looks to the ducks cruising by, to the beauties of the marsh, further to the bridge, the city beyond.  The ducks are in placid water, but it looks as though the water could become rough at any time; there’s a feeling of great movement.  And the ducks are not a pair, not in this world anyway, it’s two males, a Mallard in front and Golden Eye or something behind him.

There is too much to write about, and I still have to think a great deal more.  If I look at it at night, I can even get the ducks moving, I can see a storm coming, I feel looking at it as I did yesterday morning looking at the sunrise.  It was very common as a red sunrise, but for a fraction of a minute the sun turned malevolent, a fiery red with yellow discharges then, when it reached the cloud cover, it returned to its every red sunrise day expression.  Did you see any of this in the above?  Perhaps I’m going bats, but it seems to me I’m receiving messages of warning through storms, sunrises, floods, drought, as is everyone else if they would look and think.”      DK