Summer-inaugural breakfast I just made myself a proper breakfast for the first time in… maybe a year? Finished my last art show (until Fall) on Saturday; Have released my late Mom’s things to the point that I can reclaim my storage space for inventory; My son’s doing okay; The cat is happy. Life is good. … Continue reading good morning, summer!
This painting will be my contribution tomorrow to a fundraiser for the Oasis Women’s Mental Health Center in Birmingham, AL.
There’s some sh*t I need to release and remove from my space and consciousness , before I can let myself take a deep breath and start to splatter and smear joy.
Forty-plus years in a team-driven, deadline-critical profession, not knowing I was Autistic. Architecture was hell for me.
Your ashes; my ballast in this bewildering world
Out-arted by AI A couple of weeks ago I saw several artists spewing vitriol on an acquaintance's post because it was illustrated with an AI-generated image. As an artist, I can understand their frustration. But those artists-against-AI-art rants leave me shrugging and shaking my head. To specify, I’m writing about situations when AI-generated art is … Continue reading saturday’s thoughts on ai-generated art
One characteristic that played a key role in my Autism diagnosis is my "vibrant inner life." And I find imagination and intuition to be closely related, if not conjoined at the birth of awareness.
The impact of Mom's death - the sudden absence of a person who's always been in my life (and strongly influenced my actions) continues to upend my expectations.
The last thing I could bring you. Photo by Leslee Hare The last thing I could bring you wilted before you left. You smiled and I cried even though I still believed that you’d be coming home. Soon. I didn’t know flowers were not allowed inside the MICU. I’m glad I didn’t care and relieved … Continue reading the last thing i could bring you
leslee hare 