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          In the depths of winter, when the world seems to be draped in a blanket of cold and darkness, nature presents me with a breathtaking spectacle: softly falling snow. I stand by the window, steaming cup of coffee in my hand, the delicate, pristine flakes dancing through the air, coating the world in a serene white embrace. This scene invokes a sense of wonder and tranquility in my heart, reminding me of the remarkable beauty that exists even in the harshest of seasons.

There is something profoundly calming about gently falling snowflakes. As they gracefully descend from the heavens, the world is transformed into a peaceful sanctuary. The soft whispers of snow landing on the ground create a symphony of silence, purging my mind of daily worries and allowing me to embrace the present moment. Amidst this tranquility, there is a unique opportunity for introspection, reflection, and finding solace within myself.

          When softly falling snow covers the landscape, it envelopes the surroundings in a pure, white blanket. This pristine covering veils the earth, concealing its imperfections and blemishes, momentarily turning the world into a vision of untouched purity. In this ephemeral moment, I am reminded of the potential for renewal and transformation. The sight of these delicate snowflakes can inspire me to let go of the weight of past mistakes and open myself to new beginnings. The snow covers the earth like a blanket of innocence and purity bringing me back to a time in my life when those two concepts were alive and well in my soul.

          The falling of snowflakes is a gentle reminder of the intricate dance between nature and its elements. As they float downwards, each snowflake whispers tales of their journey through the atmosphere. Their existence represents the culmination of a complex interplay of temperature, humidity, and atmospheric conditions. By witnessing the snow's dance, I am reminded of my connection to the natural world around me, provoking a sense of awe, and inspiring me to appreciate the harmonious balance that exists in the universe. My feral cats resting in their small heated habitats, the squirrels scampering from their nests to gather the peanuts on their swing and picnic table, the fluttering of the birds landing on the perches of the several feeders scattered around my yard connect and anchor me to nature’s rhythms.

          Softly falling snow has always had a way of beckoning my inner child, inviting me to embrace its enchantment and indulge in moments of lightheartedness. It brings back precious childhood memories from building snowmen to partaking in friendly snowball fights, snow has always had a unique way of encouraging me to let go of my inhibitions and immerse myself in simple joys. It rekindles the spirit of playfulness within me, reminding me to find delight and sparkle even in the midst of challenging times and current physical restrictions that have come with age. Despite those limitations snow is still a catalyst in my mind for magic and playfulness.

          Even in the busiest moments of my life, there is still a profound beauty in the simple act of witnessing softly falling snow. Its delicate descent and elegant embrace of the earth evoke a sense of serenity, purity, and connection. This beauty serves as a gentle reminder to appreciate the stillness and magic that lies within the cold embrace of winter and lets me revel in the wonder and inspiration that softly falling snow brings, renewing my spirit and helping me find solace in the everlasting cycle of nature's beauty.

1. I have loved the visual arts for as long as memory serves me.

2. Both my parents were extremely artistic and were my first formal teachers in the realm of creative arts.

3. I was originally studying to become a child psychologist instead of a teacher. I wanted to do art therapy with children.

4. The first word I learned in English was "stupid" because that is what everyone called me since I did not speak English. My drawings would help me escape my unhappiness.

5. I am an avid collector and collect glass figurines, children's books and teddy bears.

6. As a representational artist, I struggled all through college since the focus in the 70s was on abstraction and I was told that my type of artwork was not considered fine art but rather commercial art.

7. My first live exposure to Michelangelo’s work was seeing the Pieta at the 1964 New York World’s Fair. I was awestruck and it left an indelible mark in my artistic soul.

8. I was extremely underwhelmed when I saw Leonardo’s Mona Lisa…. “Is that all there is??????”

9. While gazing in absolute wonderment at the exquisiteness of King Tut’s Funerary Mask I had to be quickly ushered away from two “patron of the arts” who were wondering about his ability “to breather with that thing over his head.”

10. I sat on the floor in front of Monet’s “Waterlilies” for over an hour just taking it all in.

11. Mary Cassatt’s pastels of mothers with their children always give me the “warm fuzzies.”

12. Although I am not a fan of Picasso’s work after his early Cubism period, “Guernica” made me cry and I felt overwhelmed by its size and powerful images.

13. Standing in front of Salvador Dali’s “Crucifixion” (Corpus Hypercubicus) transfixed me. I felt as if I was rooted to the ground and could not move.

14. Although small in comparison to other works at just 4 feet by 2.8 feet, Andrew Wyeth’s painting “Christina’s World” always evokes in me a strong psychological reaction regarding the sheer power of the human spirit and how disabilities should not limit us.

15. I went fishing for the first time when I was 6 years old, off one of the piers in Casablanca, Cuba. I nearly got pulled in by a fish that I hooked and my Dad caught me as I was slipping off the pier. I went fishing for the last time when I was 6 years old. But I am fascinated by the textural elements that are found in fishing piers and love to paint and draw them.

16. My ability to reproduce things accurately could easily have led me to a life of crime. I used to forge all of my school notes so that my parents would not know just how much trouble I would get into.

17. I love and appreciate crafting as much as I do the fine arts and I am in awe of the unrecognized and underappreciated artisans who produce work that is sometimes looked down upon by the “fine-arts” community.

18. Writing was another activity I never wanted to share publicly. My mother was a wonderful poet and my father was a gifted writer. I have been working on a book based on my mother’s poetry for a few years – but the memories bring back some very raw memories. This was supposed to be my first published book. Instead I published an anthology of works based on my paintings.

19. I love painting landscapes and the Grand Canyon was certainly a Plein Aire bucket list item for a real long time. When I finally got to go, I needed a Xanax and telephoto lens to take pictures……due to my paralyzing fear of height. On my next visit, I will manage to paint or draw on site. Same thing happened when I visited the Petroglyph Museum in New Mexico.

20. I sold my very first painting when I was 15 years old for $25.00 during our annual high school art show. It was an oil painting of an old schooner. I never thought about taking a photo of it because I did not own a camera. After I sold it I gave my father the money to help him pay for my tuition, he held three jobs to pay for our schooling, but he declined and told me to use it to get more art supplies and continue improving my skills.

21. After going to an exhibit of Dale Chihuly's work, I was interested in the possibility of buying a small piece. As I was standing in front of the piece that interested me, a small unattended child ran by and bumped into the pedestal on which sat the piece I was admiring. As the salesperson came running over in an attempt to catch the piece and accusatorially scolding me for touching it, I quickly changed my mind and walked out without ratting out the kid. That night I had a dream that I was back at the exhibit, bumped into a huge display and shards of glass rained all over me and impaled me….I decided that I would stick to painting what I had seen of his work instead of actually having a piece in my house.

22. I had to take a course in sculpture as part on my BFA and decided to make an abstract wood piece, basically because I thought it would be the easiest thing to do. My first power tool was a Valentine’s Day gift of an electric jigsaw – you may not think it was romantic but it was one of the best and most useful presents I ever received.

23. Although he was an accountant in Cuba, my father worked odd jobs in the US because he did not speak English. He eventually started working at Kulicke Frames where he became a skilled artisan in the art of gold leafing and, restoring antique frames, matting art work and making new frames look as if they were valuable antiques. He taught me how to properly cut mats and frame works which has come in very handy and saved a ton of money when preparing for shows. I have many of his museum quality frames which I plan to use for pieces which I will never sell.

24. I did not feel comfortable sharing either my art work or my writing until I was over 60 years old.

25. I now draw, paint, write and create because it heals my soul and brings me joy and if by some small chance it brings joy to others than that is an extra bonus.