Seeing Art – Princeton University Art Museum

What kind of museum do you want to go to? What do you want to see?

Fish” – Zhang Hongtu, 1985, Acrylic on Canvas

For me, as an artist, photographer, writer, I want to see art. I want to see what will make my eyes open wider.

“Moonrise” – George Inness, 1888, Oil on canvas

I want to see what will touch my very being and remind me of who I am. Because in today’s intense, fast-moving world, it can be easy to sometimes forget.

“Moon Beam” – Pat Steir, 2005, Oil on canvas

I want to try and understand another human being who looks at the same thing as me, but sees it in such a vastly different way.

L to R – “Tiger Drinking from A Stream” – Yumashiro Yuhi, October 1761, Ink, color, gold pigment on silk; “Bridge to Heaven 2006.2” – Arnold Chang, 2006, Ink on paper; “An Immortal’s Abode Above the Clouds” – Gong Xian, mid 1680s, ink on silk.

I want to see what someone creates who has a totally different life and totally different experiences than me.

“To Be Sold” – Titus Kaphar, 2018, Oil on canvas with rusted nails. References the sale of 6 enslaved persons belonging to a former president of the university on this site, 1761-1766.

I want to get my heart cracked open a little.

“A.M.X.” – Nancy Grossman, 1969-1970, Wood with nailed and stitched leather.

I want to go home and keep thinking for a while, not just of what I saw, but of what the artist stated their intentions were.

“Naga” – Tuan Andrew Nguyen, 2024, Primarily pounded and polished brass plates made from unexploded bomb metal and artillery shells.

I want to take in these feelings from another’s visions, and I want them to call to me, wash over me, not to drown me, but to pull me … me … to the surface.

“Painting” – Willem De Kooning, 1948, Enamel and oil on canvas.

This museum visit is the first chance I’ve had to get out and see art in a while. I’d forgotten how intense an experience it can be. How wonderful.

“Self-Portrait” – Robert Mapplethorpe, 1972, Photo silkscreen

The art pictured here is all from the recently reopened (10/31/2025) Princeton University Art Museum, located on the Princeton, NJ campus. The construction took three years, and was built on the same site where the previous museum had existed and was then razed.

“Dogariya – The Queen’s Guard, from the series Anima Project” – Marcia Kure, 2022, Kola nut, indigo, and watercolor on board.

The PUAM houses both classical and contemporary art from around the world. Art pictured here is only from two small special exhibits, one on photography and another on Willem de Kooning, and a larger exhibit of pieces recently donated or promised upon the reopening. Some of what I photographed was in the hallways connecting exhibits. One could spend days there. I’ll be going back.

Go find some inspiration. See new stuff. Be happy

Find more at the Princeton University Art Museum.

A Life in Lines

I recently went to the MVC (Motor Vehicle Commission) to get my REAL ID, and was offered the opportunity to have a new license photo taken. Sure, it’s been a while.

There’s nothing like having your photo taken by some official agency to reveal how we’ve aged, how many more lines we’ve added since our last such photograph. In our mirrors at home, we watch a slow and gradual change, so we can almost delude ourselves into thinking we haven’t really aged. It’s a harmless enough delusion.

Once back home, I decided to take an account of my face in the mirror.

There are definitely some lines. Among them, are many, many laugh lines. I know because when I smile, I see which ones they are. I also have squinting lines on my forehead and between my eyebrows, because I have grey eyes, and lighter eyes are always much more sensitive to sun then darker ones.

Some of the lines are simply natural aging, years of skin no longer capable of being taut as it was when I was younger. Pretty routine. I notice there really aren’t frown lines, or a down turned mouth, nothing angry.

But I also know, hidden in those lines, there are times of pain, anxiety, the stress of overcoming things life brought my way, delicate channels for tears. These lines are, to use the words of a friend, my Badge of Courage.

In the end, whether in a harshly lit photo for a driver’s license, in the soft and generous photo taken by a friend, or a selfie, all these lines are no more, no less, than a life lived.

Do What Makes You Happy

Reminder to self: Draw more. It makes you happy.

Reminder to you: Do what makes you happy.

When so many things in the world feel like they’re falling apart at the seams, do what you love, whatever it is.  Every moment of love sent out into the world is a stitch in repairing the fabric so carelessly rent by those whose souls have long ago ceased to care.

Recognition

Recognition is important. We all need a pat on the back here and there, or just an acknowledgment of our efforts, if not a final accomplishment. It’s what fuels our moving forward, or simply trying again.

When we work so hard at something, it’s nice to have someone say so. In this case, I recently received the awards package from Northern Lights Book Awards for my picture book, Where Do Butterflies Go at Night? 2nd Edition. It includes these beautiful gold seals to affix to books, and a certificate. They made the recognition tangible.

This acknowledgment may not mean much to you unless you know me personally, and how long I’ve been involved in children’s books. Years. Decades. Intense periods and fallow periods. It takes a long time to see your work in print, whether traditionally published, as this book initially was, or self-published, and all the work I put into that.

What seems like a lifetime ago, in 2011, I received an award from the Dog Writers Association of America in the Painting/Art Category for this Frenchie drawing. It was submitted by someone I knew who hadn’t told me they’d done so. The announcement was a complete surprise. A very lovely one. I consider myself lucky to have received both these awards.

But the reality is that we don’t always get external acknowledgments like these, no matter how long or often we’ve been trying.

And the reality also is that you have actually accomplished a lot that’s worthy of recognition. It could be any number of things – pushing through disappointments of all kinds and coming out on the other side; surviving a break-up; losing a loved one; finishing a project; accomplishing a goal; keeping quiet when you really wanted to blow-up; accepting change.

It really can be anything. Sometimes just getting out of bed in the morning can be an accomplishment.

Take a moment and give yourself a pat on the back. Stand a little taller. In some way that I, and most people, can’t see and may never know, you have still done good. Congratulations. Keep going. You’re doing better than you think.

World Read Aloud Day

It’s coming up fast!

I hadn’t been aware until fairly recently that I could participate in this wonderful opportunity to read my picture book to children anywhere in the world via Zoom on World Read Aloud Day!

There is an endless amount of information on the benefits of reading aloud to children. It literally builds neural pathways that contribute to emotional well-being and academic success. Reading celebrates our deep connections to one another and the world. It is never too early to read aloud to a child!

If you would like me to read my book, Where Do Butterflies Go at Night? 2nd Edition, to your class or library group, we can arrange a time. Sessions are 20 minutes long, from 10 am to 2 pm, EST. I will read my book, and have a short Q and A at the end.

Please contact me if interested. I would love to read to your class.