Taken at the AE BAckus Museum Opening Exhibition
"Material Matters" March 30, 2012A great opening lots of people.
The Exhibit is up through April 28th

The other side of the booth my jewelry.

Brigitte Chavaiilaz and I had a booth together at the show.
Brigitte had her beautiful Swiss paper art, and wonderful vintage items.

Another photo with my Raven pieces

This was taken at the Quilt Show by the Sea at the War Memorial Auditorium in Fort Lauderdale.
The show ran from March 17-19 2012

We lost our dear friend Donna Stader on Wednesday January 18, 2012
Donna was elegant, witty, regal, an artist, poet and friend.
We will cherish the memories we have of her and never forget
I will miss you my friend....

Do not stand on my grave
and weep,
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that
blow,
I am a diamond glint of snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened
grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awake in the
morning hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circling flight,,
I am the soft starshine at night.

Do not stand by my grace
and cry,
I am not there...I did not die.

Style a poem by Donna Stader

Style

Signifying you
Significant to you
Proclaiming your hand.

Flare, panache
The je n'sais qua
Of individuality.

Unique perception
New perspective
Bold approach
Continuity, recognition,
Ideas pursued
Expanded.

Death in life:
Answered questions
Habitual technique.

Abandon security!
Clear new ground
Proceed with style.

Portrait a poem by Donna Stader

 Portrait
As I face myself                                 Paint flows
In the mirror                                      Like times past
Whom do I see?                               Shapes the individual.

My persona is unclear                      The image emerges
I am unable                                      Shows life
To see what others do.                     Right for left

I make a portrait                             I look at her
To know myself                              Subjectively
Anew                                             But who looks back?

The brush trails colors
One on another
To build contours.