Photo credit: Deb Larson
To be a lifelong artist is, for me, to be in continuous dialogue with the world — seen and unseen. My artistic path has never been separate from my ecological or social awareness; rather, it is born from that fertile ground. Art is not merely a product — it is a process of deep listening, of exploring the inner terrain while honoring the wider web of life. I have always been captivated by the intersection of creativity and activism, where image, sound, and symbol become catalysts for transformation. When we enter the realm of the arts — especially through the lens of nature — we move beyond logic into the spiral of imagination, where change and healing become possible. My work is rooted in authenticity and guided by a devotion to “the Other”: the plants, animals, waters, and humans. To create is to serve, and through each piece I create, I hope to contribute intellectually, spiritually, and artistically — not only to my community in western Minnesota, but to a wider world in need of beauty, reverence, and connection.
As a lifelong artist, my creative path is inseparable from my reverence for the natural world and my commitment to social and ecological responsibility. I view art as a sacred process — one that invites transformation, deepens self-awareness, and honors the living web of connection between all beings.
Inspired by the true story of my father, In the Cards is an archetypal tale of reckoning and redemption — a novel that explores the ethical complexities of family, the international power of women’s resilience, and the capacity of the heart to heal what has been locked away.
Aigrettes And in that placeof windswept wonderbetween dreamand longing there are wings ofwhiteness. So pure and holyuntouched bythis world. Dressedin grace plumage soft asdevotion. The eyeof
The hummingbird moth arrives on our door. He stays–for days–as if a sentinel. I come to depend on his presence. A yellow bird dances in flight with a butterfly until two become one. A blonde fox leaps through the tall grass focused on her pressing schedule.
I’m here I’ve arrived in rural Minnesota a small town where The Dairy Queen is the threshold guardian along Highway 75. I admit, when all the world seems too much for me I seek refuge with her in a vanilla swirl dipped in nut crunch. My camper rocks back and
