C.S. Lewis has a famous quote where he posits that if we could see who our fellow humans truly are, and the divine potential they hold, we might be tempted to worship them. How can I see other humans through divine eyes, see the angels in their souls? What stranger can I reach out to today?

"Abundance," 12 x 16 original watercolor, from the waterfall series, July 2021.

I have probably painted a hundred things that could work for "a watered garden," but this one is my favorite because it also shows "the spring...whose waters fail not," and the rich imagery of abundance at play in our lives, including the growth--even on stone--that results.

​Sometimes when I pause to really see, I am stunned at what a watered garden my own life is, how everything has been touched by God and represents his endless goodness and extraordinary love for me. I stand all amazed.

I love this straight and narrow trail in the outskirts of southern Utah. I love the way that it points and the promise it holds if we follow it: Safety, an enlarged perspective, and peace.

Preparation is such an important part of advent. Just as John was called to prepare the way for Christ's ministry, each of us can and must prepare our hearts to receive him today. Sometimes the littlest things, the smallest of changes, can make the biggest difference. What will I do differently today to prepare?

"The Light that Shines Forth in Darkness, " 12 x 16 original watercolor. SOLD

I was stunned when I hiked this trail in early October and saw how incredibly the light was shining, lighting up the whole field in gold, amidst so much darkness and shadow. Sometimes we humans also walk in darkness, and sometimes when we're really fortunate we see a great light, a light that shines on us, comforts us, directs us and guides us.

"His Handiwork," 10x10 original watercolor from What Think Ye of Christmas. 

As an artist, I recognize the infinite love and sacrifice that goes into a handmade gift. That the recipient is ever-present in your mind and heart as you labor. It would be heartbreaking to have that gift rejected.

​I love that this beautiful earth is a gift, hand-made for us by a loving God. And yet the Son of God was rejected, even by his own people, ironically by some of the very people he came to make into sons of God. That seems to be the way of the world.

The antidote, and resultant hope? Believe on his name. 

This was an old blacksmith we watched working his trade in Nauvoo, IL. I loved seeing the scorching flames burst up as he calmly reshaped the metal. There are days when we feel the flames of the refiner's fire licking up around us. They can be a little painful, but it's who important to trust the process and the vision of this creator. Hopefully we are experiencing enough refining in the here and now that we will be able to stand when he appears again someday. 

Early-morning sunlight streaming through the trees. The rippling of the water, and the call of birds. My primary source of summer bliss is plein air painting. Every single Friday.

I’ve noticed that occasionally people feel a little frustrated with Plein Air painting. It's a very different experience from painting in the studio.

Here are a few pointers that have helped me:

First of all, Go easy on yourself. Toss any thoughts of perfection aside, and immerse yourself in the experience! If your painting turns out well, that’s a bonus!

Second, Mindfulness. The joy is in the journey: being outside, noticing the ground under your feet supporting you, carefully observing the beauty of nature, listening to the soundtrack of bird calls and water flowing, feeling part of creation. This is the best therapy there is! 

Third, Simplify. Don’t try and capture everything you see—it can be completely overwhelming. Zoom in on a section or an area, even an interesting plant or two. Save detail until the very end—you might not need it at all! (Sometimes it’s helpful to simplify the materials you bring on location as well!)

Fourth, Values. If you focus first on sorting your lights and your darks, everything usually falls right into place. This also helps to simplify the scene. I don’t always do a value study, but my paintings usually turn out better when I do! 

Fifth, Focus. Keep your mind and your eye—and your painting — centered around the one thing that initially drew you to the location. Was it bright-colored flowers in the foreground, a glow of light in the background, an array of interesting shapes? Whatever it is, don’t lose sight of the magic that initially inspired you, and don’t let anything upstage it!  

Sixth, Embrace the challenge. Plein air painting really stretches you as an artist. There’s a reason artists have been choosing to paint on location for centuries, from the French Impressionists to the Hudson River School in upstate New York, these artists knew that getting outside and painting from life in nature would improve their painting skills and powers of observation better than any other practice. 

Seventh, Instruction. Sometimes a short private lesson on color mixing or value studies or some other key principle can make a big difference when you’re painting on location. Don’t hesitate to reach out and schedule a private session if you think this would help you over a hurdle or two. 

​If you're interest in joining us, reach out to me directly via the contact form, or sign up for the group email under the LEARN tab. Anyone is welcome. You don't have to be mega-talented. And we always have a great time.

Once upon a trail, as a friend and I were descending a rocky slope, we suddenly found ourselves in a face-off with a bighorn sheep. 

We stood there in a stunned silence, frozen in our tracks as we became aware of the potential danger. After a few moments that felt like an eternity, it occurred to me that if we stepped off the trail, to the left, maybe the ram would understand that we weren’t aggressors. So we carefully took a few steps to the left side of the trail. 

As we did so, the sheep took our cue and politely stepped to the other side of the trail, sending a benign signal of its own. Respectfully we passed each other on opposite sides of the trail and continued our journey. 

My friend and I remarked on the danger and the beauty of this experience. How this beautiful animal commanded an air of respect. She later shared with me that spotting a bighorn sheep on the trail is considered a good omen in some cultures.

This is not from the photo we nervously took that day. But it is from my own photo, taken years later, still in awe of this beautiful creature. I'm calling it Air of Respect, which is also a perfect phrase to describe most fathers.

It's not too late to gift Dad the wildlife watercolor he's been wanting for his office or den! 15% off all existing landscape and wildlife paintings, this week only. (Also perfect for our favorite Highland High School grad.)

A vacation home or ancestral home; a favorite travel destination; underwater sea life

Portrait of a child or grandchild; ancestor portrait; rugged landscapes, western art.
Gift certificates are available to announce commissions.

Note: All existing landscapes and wildlife paintings 15% off for Father's Day.
(Commissions are not discounted.)

Sanctuary of Faith prints:
Only a few left in stock! 8 x 10 or 4 x 5, with or without type; with or without mat.
Thank her for the environment she creates and the spirit she brings to your home.

Exactly ten years ago we we went to the Carl Bloch exhibit at the BYU Museum of art, and had a transcendent experience seeing these well-known depictions of the Savior as the original, larger-than-life paintings. They were breathtaking. 

Around the same time, I was offered an opportunity to stay with my family at a friend's vacation home near St. George in exchange for my painting a "house portrait" of the home when we returned. We were excited about the opportunity to spend Spring Break together as a family in the desert, to hike and explore. But we were unprepared for how stunningly beautiful the homes and the development was, all designed to complement rather than detract from the desert setting. 

The combination of having been so deeply moved by the Bloch paintings, followed immediately by these four or five days in the desert made me a whole new kind of alive. All of my senses were heightened, and for days on end I experienced what I now call "mindfulness on steroids," an intense but active meditative state where you experience your surroundings as never before. In this case, what I saw literally everywhere I turned in the desert was a metaphor for the Savior and his atonement. Although we were vacationing as a family, I spent that year's Holy Week in a state of relative holiness, contemplating moment by moment aspects of the savior's life, sacrifice, death, and rebirth. 

I since planned a series of paintings called Desert Metaphors, in an attempt to share my experience with others. For people who are not religious, they are simply a collection of rare glimpses of the Utah desert at springtime. But for believers, there are layers of additional and deeper meaning to be found in every image.

Ten years later this series still is not complete, but I am ready to present some of these pieces. Yesterday was Palm Sunday, a day Christians celebrate Jesus's triumphant return to Jerusalem, where his followers honored him by waving palm leaves, and shouting Hosanna, which means "Save us now." They laid palm branches, along with articles of clothing, by some accounts, to line his pathway to the holy city...and ancient attempt to roll out the red carpet, if you will.

I absolutely love what President Russell M. Nelson said about palm branches and Palm Sunday, in a video yesterday. He asks the world to “make this coming week truly holy by remembering — not just the palms that were waved to honor the entrance of Jesus into Jerusalem — but by remembering the palms of His hands.” He then quotes one of my favorite scriptures, Isaiah 49:16:  “Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands” — a promise, President Nelson says, that “[Christ] will never forget you.” 

And so for today's image, in commemoration of Palm Sunday, I present the first in this year's Desert Metaphors series: "His Palms." This is done in a technique I learned from a Florida artist, Jean Grastorf, based on her book, "Pouring Light." The goal is to capture the illusion of light. Perfect for a goal, #StartingToday, to see and choose light in our lives. #Iwillseethelight
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"His Palms" 15 x 11 original watercolor.