My first memory is about color. Blue to be exact. When I was five, I begged my mother to let me decorate my room. She caved. I chose blue—everything was blue. I even painted my shoeboxes blue. Blue felt safe and secure. After all, it was my room—my safe place.
I joined Brownies when I was seven. That was fun—sort of. My leader kicked me out because I refused to color my trees green. In my world, trees are red, orange, and yellow—even purple, pink, and papaya. My Brownie leader didn’t see it that way. Trees were green—or else. I chose or else.
Trees — My Way
I grew up in Comstock, Michigan—a conservative Midwest community. Mother tried to dress me in pale pink and patent leather. I balked. My clothes were bright—fuchsia, orange, and purple. Poor Mother.
Fast forward to Michigan State University (Go Green!). I graduated with a BS in education and landed a job teaching high school in New Buffalo, Michigan. My principal required his staff to submit weekly lesson plans. I color coded mine. He didn’t get it, but learned to live with my “quirk.”
I loved teaching, but went on to earn a MS in Human Resource Management. During my interview for Director of HR with a Fortune 500 Company, the VP of HR said, “If I hire you, what is the first thing you will do?” I’m confident he expected me to talk about developing a strategic plan. But I said, “I need to feel at home in my workspace, so I’ll hang colorful art in my office.” He hired me anyway.
Eventually, on a quest to identify meaning in life—mine and others—I left the corporate world and earned a Ph.D. in the psychology and practice of personal history. My seminal doctoral research revealed the relationship between telling stories and identifying meaning in life. It was time to help people tell their stories.
In 2003, I started Legacies In Ink, LLC. During the next twenty years, I preserved stories of over forty families in limited edition heirloom books. Their stories are more than meaningful, but each book comes to life through images and a personalized color pallet.
Certainly Legacies In Ink was (and still is) a passion. My books touch thousands of lives—past, present, and future. But I knew intuitively I had not reached the end of my career path. Still, I struggled with “What’s next?”
One day I mentioned, rather casually, to my amazing husband, Chuck Schwabe, that I might want to paint with acrylics. But I kept writing books. Writing books was easy. Painting was hard.
A year passed. My birthday rolled around. Chuck spoils me in many ways,
So I was not surprised to find two brightly-wrapped packages on our dining room table.
Chuck was smiling like the proverbial Cheshire Cat.
My amazing husband, Chuck Schwabe
The first package contained acrylic paints, accompanied by brushes. The second was a set of canvasses. Now what? Well, like all twenty-first century folks who want to learn something new, I turned to YouTube.
YouTube was interesting—sort of. I confused myself by following lots of artists and trying to paint exactly what they did. They covered their small canvasses with itty-bitty detailed paintings, and their colors were, frankly, boring.
My paintings felt wrong. So I attended a few “wine ‘n paint” events. The wine was good, but I wasn’t into palm trees or star-struck giraffes. Perhaps painting wasn’t for me? Maybe I should dump my art supplies in the trash and buy a bowling ball.
But I enjoyed the process—my process. I loved the feel of laying paint on canvas, especially when it was thick and layered. I loved holding a pallet knife and creating large, bold, colorful . . . well, somethings.
In 2019, Chuck and I moved from Fort Lauderdale, Florida to Hendersonville, North Carolina and bought a home where I could set up my own art studio. I painted the walls strawberry, royal purple, teal, and lime green—the ceiling goldenrod. I was ready to create.
A year passed. I created nothing. NOT. A. THING. Then, I started thinking: I decorate our home with bold colors. Our garden is a wild blast of colors. Lucie, our chocolate lab, wears a purple paisley collar and walks with a fuchsia leash. I dream in color. Chuck and I collect artwork that is colorful, bold, big, and brazen.
Enter Ah Ha moment number one: Paint what you love—what comes natural. But I was scared. What if I painted something “wrong”?
About the same time, Chuck gave me another amazing birthday present—he arranged for me to spend a morning with an artist we admire. If I were a golfer, like Chuck, my gift was equivalent to spending a morning with Jack Nicholas.
The artist’s name is Vincent Golshani. His working studio—Goldon House Gallery—is in Savanah, Georgia. Vincent is Sicilian. The first thing he said was, “Sweetheart, if you ’a-scared, you can’t paint.” That morning Vincent introduced me to a whole new world of art called “Abstract Expressionism.” Enter Ah Ha moment number two: That’s me. That’s what I want to do.
I returned to my studio and let go. Brilliant splotches of color have always energized me. So I said, “Self, why should my artwork be any different?”
Self answered, “Sweetheart, it shouldn’t.” Thus, my artwork is influenced by color—mostly from what I feel; often from nature; sometimes from art I admire.
My art is somewhat like the classic abstract expressionists. But it is mine. Like my books, my paintings tell a story. And sometimes that story surprises me. Through my art, I express my experiences—my stories—so they will honor and enrich yours.
I paint with acrylics on deep, gallery-wrapped, textured canvases, My tools are brushes and pallet knives. My paintings celebrate vibrant colors enhanced with tactile textures. I invite you to reach out and touch them—experience them for yourself. Their abstract, nonrepresentational compositions depict what can be, instead of what is.
Dahlia
My studio, like my long-ago bedroom, is now my safe place. It bursts with energy and joy. It oozes meaning. Lucie, my studio assistant, shows off a splotch of bright color on her chocolate head. My clothes are either covered in paint or waiting to be covered in paint.
I am happy—happy to connect with YOU through my artwork.
Midnight Sun
Lucie, My Studio Assistant