Six things about me and my experience that might surprise and delight you.
1. My husband, Greg, and I once drove straight through a rainbow. For a fleeting three seconds, we were completely surrounded—an endless shimmer of tiny rainbows scattering in every direction, like we were inside a living prism. Then, just as suddenly, it vanished as we passed through to the other side. I’m grateful Greg saw it too, because it felt so unreal I might have convinced myself it was only a dream—but it really happened.
2. I was hypnotized once and, in that strange, quiet space, I met my feminine self. She stood with a long black braid falling down her back, her presence strong and calming, like she belonged to something older than memory. Without speaking, she placed a feather in one of my hands and a stone in the other. I took them, feeling their difference—one light, one heavy—and crossed my arms over my chest, holding them there as if they mattered more than I understood. Even now, it feels like a message I haven’t fully unraveled.
3. When I was 36, a man I had been dating—someone I’d only recently parted ways with—took his own life. It shook me in a way I wasn’t prepared for and left me with a stark, unshakable truth: life is fragile, and it doesn’t wait.
In the aftermath, I felt a strong pull to step away from everything familiar. I packed a backpack and spent three months traveling through Europe, moving between hostels and small hotels, meeting strangers who became temporary companions along the way. Together, and sometimes alone, I gathered moments and experiences that have stayed with me ever since.
That journey changed me. I learned how to take care of myself in unfamiliar places, how to trust my instincts, and how to stand on my own with a quiet confidence. More than anything, I came home knowing, deep down, that I would be okay.
4. When I was 37, I felt a pull to leave Seattle, the city I’d always known and start somewhere new. I wrote down three options—San Diego, Albuquerque, and New York City—folded them into slips, dropped them into a hat, and picked one. New York City.
I followed that decision and stayed for nearly three years, allowing the experience to shape me in unexpected ways. It was there that my painting style began to take form, and I exhibited my work with the 14th St Painters while working out of a studio in Manhattan. But at 40, something shifted again, I found my way back to the Northwest, and this time, I didn’t need chance to guide me—it simply felt right.
5. When I was 45, my first husband passed away from colon cancer. Before he died, he made it clear that his little bachelor-pad casita in Baja, Mexico, was meant for me—he wouldn’t hear of it going to anyone else.
A few years later, I met Greg, and together we took on that place as a shared labor of love. Over the next 18 years, we poured ourselves into it—repairing, rebuilding, and slowly shaping it into something I know would have made Peter proud. We made the long drive down the Baja peninsula from Washington or Oregon and back nearly 30 times, each trip becoming part of the story.
Those years are filled with memories I still carry vividly—camping on quiet beaches with our border collies, watching the sun melt into the horizon, and savoring some of the most incredible Mexican food and margaritas I’ve ever had.
6. In 2023, I drew an image of a woman cradled in a giant hand—it felt like the hand of the Universe, holding her safely and protectively. One month later, I found myself in Bali on a yoga retreat, and there I was, sitting in the palm of a huge hand sculpture. It felt so uncanny, like something I had imagined had come to life. How amazing is that?
Will you share something I don’t know about you?