sept '25 favorites
Small things that made my September just a little bit better.
creating
A few weeks ago, in a moment of weakness, I scheduled a YouTube Live stream, forgetting that I would actually be LIVE. No editing. No do-overs. No filter. It’s not that I don’t like being Live, as in sitting across from you talking. It’s that it’s hard to be Live on camera, talking with people I can’t see, and making art on the fly. I know myself too well. I forget words. I don’t finish my sentences. I get distracted. But like most things in life, the more you do something, the less there is to fear. I’m trying to keep it all in perspective and remember just to have fun.
In case you missed it, you can watch the replay here. Thanks to those of you who watched along in real time.
eating
When you have exactly 1,264 tomatoes, even if you subtract 500, giving them to every person in a 10-mile radius, you are still left with many, many tomatoes. Ask me how I know. Yes to pico de gallo, bruschetta, tomato bisque, caprese salad, and freezer-ready tomato sauce. Where do I go from here with those vine-ripened beauties? As in all things cooking-related, I turn to my dear friend Ina Garten. In her culinary genius, I discovered this Tomato & Goat Cheese Crostata recipe. You will never look at tomatoes in the same way after eating this deliciousness.
An artist must fight the tendency to avoid creativity out of fear.
The fear of being judged, disliked, rejected, unvalued.
When you can press past fear, it is deprived of its power over you.
—Janice Elsheimer (rephrased)
reading
Paris in Winter by David Coggins is filled with page after page of his watercolor and ink illustrations. The text is interspersed with his art, making this a visual treat. The book details the family’s annual trip to Paris each winter, describing meals, art, fashion, and shopping. Although I enjoyed the book, I must say I also found it a little presumptuous in places, as it assumes the reader understands French or tends to jump into dialogue without providing context. Overall, though, this is a unique book that I am glad to have on my bookshelf.
inspiring (artist)
Artist Eva Hesse, born in 1936, fled Nazi Germany with her family, landing in New York at the age of three. Her artwork focused primarily on sculptures, although her early body of work did include paintings. Hesse was known for using unconventional materials in her sculptures and was considered an innovative pioneer.
Sadly, Hesse died at the age of 34 from a brain tumor, cutting short her artistic legacy. Despite her limited years as an artist, her art continues to be displayed in museums throughout the world.
This is my version of Eva’s Untitled painting from 1960. You can see her version here.
This is your life. You are responsible for it. You will not live forever. Don’t wait. Make the time now.
—Natalie Goldberg
following
YouTube: Adele Sypesteyn’s channel is full of instructional videos primarily focused on abstract art. I have followed her for years.
Pinterest: Jane Davies’ boards are filled with inspirational art. I love her use of color and collage. I have followed her for years too.
Instagram: Joanne Last’s abstracted landscape art is inspiring with her use of colors and texture.
arranging
This month’s bouquet was created in honor of my mom’s birthday. She no longer wants gifts of any kind, only flowers. I can understand the sentiment. There is something slightly decadent about flowers. Here today and gone tomorrow. Lavish and stunning. Too joyful to take for granted. I drove this dash of bright pink 223 miles to deliver them in person.
Studies show that flowers really can make you happier. Read more here.
Happiness is to hold flowers in both hands.
—Japanese Proverb
capturing
These old abandoned boats beckoned me as my love for all things weathered tends to do. Right about now, I imagine you thinking, “Why for the love of a junk pile are you taking a photo of those decrepit old things and not the beauty of the water and city?” You would not be wrong. There is beauty both near and far. All I know is that we each get to decide. And tomorrow I might choose differently. For today, it felt like the perfect photo op, even as I had to lean over backwards to capture it.
blooming
I’m fairly certain Crape Myrtle is not supposed to be blooming right now. In fact, the top of the tree bloomed months ago. This is a lower branch that I suppose normally would have been pruned. Every time I pull into the driveway, I break into a smile with this unexpected flash of wonder. There’s nothing subtle about it. And did I mention the peeling bark? You really should plant one for yourself.
Learn more here.
Being beautiful has very little to do with how you look.
—Stacie Martin
smiling
How is this possible? Moments turn into days, days into years, and suddenly here we are at the threshold of a new adventure. I sound like a sappy Hallmark card. Sentimental. Flowery. Effusive. All things that I’m generally not. Although sometimes I’ve found that there is nothing but saccharine to accurately express an emotion. And this is certainly one of them. My grandkids have a habit of bringing out the spoonful of sugar in me.
Find your own Hallmark card inspiration here.
enjoying
Although I live near a large body of saltwater (hello, Puget Sound) and can see that water from my own home, I enjoy nothing more than walking in the sand with endless waves crashing nearby. Spending 4 days at the beach with my kids and grandkids was the perfect ending to the summer. Our Pacific Ocean in the northwest is choppy and rugged, terribly cold, and seems to be constantly chasing clouds and fog. Rarely windless. But no matter the weather, the ocean lulls you with its rhythmic sound, replacing words with silence. Then and only then is there room for the Awe it inspires.
The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever.
—Jacque Cousteau
recovering
In a tale as old as time, my hand chose to emancipate, leaving me like an angry teen to audition as a stunt double for Thing (from The Addams Family). Electrocuted and seemingly severed Hand enlarged to a sickening degree, provoking thoughts of elephantiasis. Sticking your hand in an underground hornet’s nest will do that. Hand was not actually looking for a side hustle or instigating trouble for that matter. Hand was merely the subject of gross negligence, trying its best to put me at arm’s length.
And as an ancient sage once said, “He who puts hand in hornet’s nest will know the sting of his own folly.”
I agree, they do pack a wallop.
You drown not by falling into the river, but by staying submerged in it.
—Paul Coelho
I’m curious, what’s on your list of favorites?
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