art lessons 2016 announcement.jpg

Alrighty friends, this has been in the works for a while¬†and I gotta tell you I¬†am SO excited about this… starting in January, I will be offering once a week group art lessons for kids!¬† Right now, I’m aiming¬†for a group of¬†2nd-6th graders,¬†but as we get going, I may add a pre-school¬†group as well.

The format will¬†be¬†a once a week class¬†where the kids will be exposed to various studio methods and materials,¬†with a¬†dabble (totally legit art word)¬†of Art History, Aesthetics, Art Criticism, and Visual Culture.¬† I’ll store their work here, so that we can work on it week to week, and then we’ll have an art show¬†just before the¬†end of the school year to showcase all of their fantastic creations.

Class will be held on Wednesdays, from 3:30-4:30pm.¬† This is the best slot I’ve found, with it being an early-out day for most kids, but if you are very interested and can’t make that timeslot, let me know and I’ll consider a change if enough people need it.

The session would run from January 6th – April 27th, with the art show hopefully that first weekend in May (we’ll grab a date that works for all/most families involved).

Cost is $45 per month, per child, which includes all materials. Staying through the whole session is preferable, but if a scheduling conflict comes up and you need to drop the class, I understand. (Some art is better than no art at all, right?!)

Okey doke– spots are limited, so let me know asap if your child is interested!¬† HERE’S TO A CREATIVE NEW YEAR!




End of Summer Watercolor Series

Block Party    Sand and Beach Glass

Ahh… fall.¬† I mean, fall!!¬† Fresh haircuts and sharp outfits for the first day of school,¬†crisp autumn breezes dancing through the colorful trees, homemade peach pies, bushels of apples,¬†pumpkins popping up in the stores….¬†makes me wanna pull on my boots and wrap a scarf around my neck. Mmm.¬† Seriously, who doesn’t love this time of year?

End of Summer Series 2015

To celebrate, and welcome all things¬†autumn with open, long-sleeve covered¬†arms, I thought I’d¬†set out¬†a few more paintings in the shop.¬† This series of six small watercolors¬†was inspired by this late end-of-summer, early fall time of year.¬† One last block party, one last dinner on the patio, one last jaunt out to the beach to squeeze out every memory-making moment of the summer, and then the excitement of school, of ROUTINES (you know darn well why that’s all in caps you fellow baby mommas), of football games, harvest and holidays. It’s my favorite time of year, and I always love to get my house back in order, to reclaim my space from the chaos summer adventures, and ready it for friendly gatherings and family time at home.

Last Warm Afternoon on the Lake First Fall Sunrise

I remember being in a very nice house when I was a teenager, and hearing that the mom had just switched out her artwork for the season, and I thought it was a little crazy and perhaps too extravagant.¬† I mean, if you have beautiful artwork, wouldn’t you want to always have it hanging?¬† But, now that I have a home myself (albeit not nearly as fancy as the afore mentioned abode), I will say that I like to switch out a few things here and there to correspond with the season.¬†For fall that sometimes means¬†a¬†more cozy decorative¬†pillow, or a heavier throw draped over the edge of the couch, and¬†for my kitchen table centerpiece, replacing the summery limes with some small gourds. Pretty soon the potted plants on the doorstep will bow out too, and pumpkins and mums¬†will take their place.

Back to School     Ladies' Night Out

I could see doing the same¬†with some¬†of my smaller pieces of art, swapping out a springy¬†landscape for one with a more¬†autumn-al color scheme.¬† Or, just swapping out something in your bookcase d√©cor so your eyes can appreciate something new.¬† That’s one reason I love doing these smaller paintings.¬† Whether their home ends up being¬†a shelf, or in a wall collage, permanent or seasonal, there is always a place for them.

Maybe you do this to?¬† However you welcome it in, here’s to¬†celebrating the season.

Happy fall.


Azaleas in Spring


Azaleas in Spring

The other day I had one of those going-through-the-motions-driving-my-kids-to-their-activities-but-my-mind-was-on-other-things sort of day, and amidst my zombie-of-a mother mode, I saw these bold beauties as I was dropping my son off at Cub Scouts and they snapped me back to real life for a moment that I had to stop and take a picture.


I mean, –yowza– look at that color!¬† Azaleas in the Northwest are truly a sight to behold, and a welcome zing of color as we are coming out of our dull, gray winter months.¬† March usually brings¬†our delicate–and quite beloved–cherry blossoms that get us excited about spring (hmm,¬†there may need to be a cherry blossom painting in the future), but the first show of color are these babies right here.

Seeing them¬†reminded me of this painting I did last spring–when I really had their¬†vibrant yet dreamy¬†pinks on my mind.¬† Paired with a deep olive green and a¬†buttercream lemony yellow, it was such a fun painting to do to celebrate the season and get my spring on.

There ended up being a little romance thrown in there too, with the swooping swells of soft color. I guess that’s inevitable this time of year¬†[insert Bambi twitterpated scene].

Azaleas cropped detailAzaleas in Spring | oil on canvas | 24


So,¬†to sum up and channel my inner¬†Jimmy Fallon, I’d have to say Thank You, Azaleas, for slapping this dazed mother upside the head that one time at scouts.¬†Keep those beautiful blooms coming!

Before the Snow…

Before the Snow

I get comments a lot that mustard is “my color”. That it reminds people of me.¬†Mustard? Really??¬† I used to think it was just because I had this mustard purse one time, and that those people were making a¬†quick observation, but slowly I’ve come to terms–nay–embraced my association with the golden hue¬†because I am just downright naturally drawn to it.¬† Not because it is flattering on me (um, because it’s not), but honestly I think I started loving it long ago because of it’s natural beauty in a landscape–picture the bright fall leaves of a Quakie, or straw-colored tall grass of a rural field.¬†Ha–and, as I type this, I have two landscape paintings above my computer, done by different artists, both with mustard-colored fields. And, another small painting of some figs, with a mustard background.¬† Okay fine, and a picture¬†of my hubs and me…¬†in a mustard cardigan. Gah!

Whenever I think of the Utah landscape though, it is hard for me to get mustard–more specifically, the combo of mustard + deep mauve-y purple + dirty white–out of my mind… and I think I’ll undoubtedly end up painting this color scheme over and over again. I realize most people might think of¬†the Utah landscape as it would be featured in a magazine spread–with blue skies and snowy mountains, or¬†the beautiful browns and red rocks of the southern Utah national parks–but one of my favorite mental snapshots of the place I once called home is how the mountains and fields look just before the snow comes.

While I was in grad school, I worked for the most charming art museum in Springville, Utah (The Springville Museum of Art) as an outreach educator.  Along with the usual museum experiences, I spent years driving with my co-teacher through canyons and navigating the back roads through the more rural parts of the state, to take art presentations and professional developments to every school in Utah. Sometimes it was a typical school in suburbia, and sometimes it was a k-12 school, off of unpaved roads, with fifty students total.  One time, in a k-8 school with about twelve students, we found ourselves talking with the teacher about her unique challenges teaching at a school like that, while she was stirring a large pot of chili for the students for lunch.  It was intriguing and inspiring to see how the role of education could be so diverse, all within the same state.  And, since this job had us on the road nearly every day, it was equally as interesting to watch the diversity of the landscape out of the car window.

Before the Snow | oil on canvas | 24" x 30"

Before the Snow | oil on canvas | 24″ x 30″

From Fall to Spring,¬†you know the snow is about to start silently whisping through the air, when the sky turns white but dark.¬† In this light, the mountains become mauve, and the branches of the bare scrub oak¬†bushes are an even¬†more deep, eggplant purple.¬† Then, in the right areas, at the base of the mountain and the scrub oak, bam, there’s that mustard-y field.¬† The blurred lines as¬†you drive by create bands of¬†stacked complimentary color, in perfect harmony and balance to each other.¬† It’s a sight that is nostalgic to me, reminding me of those years I spent teaching and traversing the Utah landscape.¬† No¬†doubt I will continue to paint it¬†again and¬†again.¬†¬†(On that note,¬†there is likely another mustard scarf in my future as well…)

– lisa

Oh, ps, and if you like these or this guy, you might be a fan of it’s mini me…

Before the Snow  | oil on canvas | 8" x 8"

Before the Snow¬†[study]¬†| oil on canvas | 8″ x 8″

Oregon Seascape | oil on canvas | 24" x 36"  SOLD

Welcome! I’m Lisa, and I’m a converted Portlander–which means lover of foggy gray skies, industrial bridges, a good cup of hot chocolate, and I prefer jutting rocks and evergreens near my beaches. As a stay-at-home mother of three, I have plenty that fills my time, but besides being a mother, painting is what makes me feel like me.

After¬†grabbing hold of some great opportunities over the past year and¬†a half or so,¬†and many times¬†finding myself¬†surrounded by paints and canvases again, I’ve decided to take a bounding¬†leap back into the world of painting and more wholly embrace¬†a pastime that I have dearly missed for years.¬† It has been both a serendipitous and deliberate journey–which I’m sure I’ll share more of later–but for now, if you’d like to see what I’ve been up to, grab something warm to sip and take a look around. (psst… use that nifty little black box¬†to navigate)