Dew drops cling to the spider’s web. Moss carpets stones along the riverbed. Leaves of green and brown lay upside down. I walk upon the pebbled paths. The clouds linger low in the valley between Clayton and Rabun. Newly staked rows of ripening tomatoes remind one that there are still many hot summer days ahead. Yet, the crisp balmy air chills the elevating atmosphere. The road winds and bends for.. Read More

I draw back the curtain, letting in the morning light. The kitchen is awash in a pale hue of butter yellow. The kettle is a fire-engine red with polished lacquer. I run water, turn on the stove and listen for the subtle sounding poof, as it ignites. The kettle is warmed until it whistles. I whisk batter and pour dollops onto the skillet, and add a light dash of cinnamon as it.. Read More

Amid travels, studio classes and a series of varying engagements, I’m informed of an impending deadline before the first visitor of the day. I open the gallery early, and make preparations to receive guests. One morning each week, I clear my itinerary and welcome visitors to stop in, sit and talk awhile over coffee. All summer I’ve enjoyed this tradition. It has presented me with unique opportunities to become better.. Read More