Walking with strangers is such a gift. The surprise is when you literally walk on top of language.

Cold and worn out, it’s my friends that come up big for me.

For the first time I got a little scared on the trail. I had my rain hood up, and this hiker comes out of nowhere. Then it gets better and more familiar

So today I did not finish the entire route. But it was OK because I met the most extraordinary woman who is also an artist. We shared tea and conversation and I allowed my body to rest.

These stone walls seem to walk with me on the trail. The thoughts they bring up keep me company along the way.

The real start of the trail. I am walking where 1,000’s of pilgrims have walked over the last 1,000 years.

Gearing up to start my walk in Lyon, France. With the first days of the trip behind me I am able to focus on the beauty in front of me.

Somewhere at the end of The Camino there is a very tall iron cross that stands in the middle of a small hill of stones. There are thousands upon thousands of stones that create this small hill. D is part of what I call my resentment stone. It encompasses many resentments I have gathered over the years - from people to experiences.

Leaving is always hard. Being on your own has it’s challenges. My first six days of this journey brought out every. single. emotion. It truly was both sides of the coin all at once.

These colors, their movement in the sky, and how quickly they appear and disappear are just magic to me. Even though I know these colors aren’t alive they seem to have been given life when playing in the sky.

Art is experiencing something and not walking away from that experience too soon. It is trial and error in making art. It is watching it be toppled too.

Sunshine and good friends help to bring out more painting for me. I wonder if I forced myself to paint, even if it was in my journal. Could I develop better practices?

Gardening is not an exact science. Sometimes is tells you what is possible, not the other way around. I think it is the same with painting…with life….

From a Golden Age painter to the Blue Ridge of the Appalachian Mountains, inspiration can be found in any corner. Exploration is required to find inspiration.

I discovered the Camino in 1994 while attending school in Australia. Of course it involved a boy, who I was madly in love with. He introduced me to Paulo Coelho. And my Camino dream began.

With paintbrush in hand I became a self-taught mixed media artist who is always trying to push the boundaries of expression.

My story of healing from a diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis. Imagine all that you hold dear ripped away overnight. MS affects all things related to your physical, emotional, and cognitive self.