INKtober 2026 - eleven years later…

Many years ago, when Instagram still seemed fairly new in my world, I happened across a challenge someone had posted called INKtober. It was September of 2015, and the idea played around in my mind as something perhaps I should do.

I hadn't created anything new all summer. Not since a pack of three pit bulls attacked me early that spring. The traumatic experience had left me with wounds far deeper than the physical ones. For the first time in my life, even the studio and creativity didn't feel like a healing place.

Fear held me hostage.

October 1st rolled around without me committing to the challenge or creating a drawing. But later that night, sleepless and wide awake, I crawled out of bed, plucked two pens from a drawer, found a sketchbook somewhere in the house and made an ink drawing.

And then I kept going.

Every single day for the rest of October, I made a drawing and shared it publicly. I remember squeezing a daily drawing into the spaces and places life took me. Drawing while waiting for dinner at a restaurant in Billings before heading to a rodeo with Raymond. Drawing at home. In the studio. In the wilderness. One dawn, after we'd danced alongside generations of a family at an autumn barn dance, I sat on a dry grassy hillside and drew their historic barn.

Curiosity and discipline got the drawings made. Courage helped me post them. Ink is unforgiving. You can't erase. There were imperfections. These were exercises. I certainly hadn't set out to make anything “sell-worthy,” whatever that means…

But to my surprise, people responded. They began asking if they could purchase the drawings. Some I gave away. Many found homes.

I kept just one.

A little drawing of the Velveteen Rabbit from a favorite childhood story. Looking back now, I believe I saw something of myself in that tender, well-loved and unintentionally abandoned little rabbit. Somehow, that stuffed rabbit spoke to the place I was finding my way out of.

Those 31 days became what I later described in my Journal as “baby steps through the fear.” And now, eleven years later, October 1st has rolled around again. This time, I'm saying yes before the day slips away.

INKtober 2026 begins today.

I will create one original 6 × 8 inch ink drawing every day throughout October and share it as it emerges. This time, each new original will also be offered for sale.

I don't know what today's drawing will be.
That's part of the adventure.
31 days. 31 original drawings.
One day, one drawing, one small act of creative courage at a time.

Follow INKtober 2026 as the collection unfolds →

There's a new Beaver in Town...

I’ve had this little bugger in mind ever since a special encounter with a baby beaver while hiking three summers ago. When I finally gathered up a lump of clay and began, something unexpected happened.

I almost stopped.

The reference images scattered across my table looked much more, well… rodent-like… than the remarkable little creature who had been living in my imagination all these years. Doubt crept in. Where was the compelling, magical being I remembered?

I took a break. Walked in the woods. Thought of my childhood. Then returned to the studio and downloaded a delightfully read audio version of “The Wind in the Willows.” I returned to that moment three summers ago when the baby beaver popped its head out of the water. I remembered.

The curiosity. The industriousness. The almost comical earnestness of a creature who can alter an entire landscape one stick at a time.

And slowly, this little bugger emerged through eight hours of “The Wind in the Willows” followed by a fabulous reading of “Watership Down.” I found my way back into that magical world we are all part of when we open our hearts and quiet our minds.

Beaver enjoyed an enthusiastic debut at Sculpture in the Park in Loveland. Apparently, I’m not the only one who found this lil being irresistible. Within two weeks, all 50 bronzes from the first batch had been claimed by enthusiastic humans.

The foundry is now busy with the next batch from the limited edition of 100. I am a bit blown away by the love this newest member of my palm-size bronze menagerie has received. Perhaps there’s something about a creature who quietly reminds us what can happen when we keep building the life we imagine.

Reserve a Beaver →

When Art Finds Its People

For the fourth year in a row, Raymond and I returned to Loveland, Colorado, for the annual Sculpture in the Park show.

Created by artists for artists, it is the largest and one of the most esteemed outdoor sculpture shows in the country. Run by a giant posse of enthusiastic volunteers, the juried show brings together top-notch sculptors from around the world.

We arrived a few days early so I could spend time at the foundry, to oversee the final finishing and patinas on bronzes before the show. We reconnected with old friends, made new ones, talked art and bronze and life… and sent more than a few sculptures off into the world with people to love them.

But perhaps my greatest joy is simply witnessing the response. The spark in someone’s eyes when they meet Jake. A little critter cupped tenderly in someone’s hands. The personal stories people share with me. The unexpected hugs.

I spend much of my life alone in the studio making things. I’m learning how beautiful it is to stand on the other side of that process for a few days and receive the love coming back.

Full of gratitude and warm-fuzzies.

Jake found his Forever Home

Jake was the first sculpture I created after my father died from cancer. My intention was for him to be compelling and irresistible. I wanted him to touch people’s hearts. I didn't realize just how much that heart connection would spin into comfort and joy.

I cannot think of a more perfect place for Jake than in a healing environment. Through a partnership with Small Dog Realty, I was able to donate Jake to the Livingston HealthCare Foundation. He now sits near the surgery waiting area; a place where people often find themselves waiting, worrying, hoping and in need of comfort.

I’ve already heard so many heartening stories; people stopping to greet him, patients taking daily walks from their rooms to visit him, children sitting on the floor to talk to and hug him. One elderly gentleman was seen sitting next to Jake, his hand resting on Jake's head, while his wife was in surgery.

The Foundation hosted a lovely reception for Jake and I. Emotion wound through my words as I tried to express what Jake's presence in the hospital means to me. He is not simply a bronze dog. He is a companion.

May he bring comfort, connection and smiles to all who pass by. 💛

Raymond recorded my brief remarks at the reception celebrating Jake. I stumble and ramble a bit, but if you'd like to hear the story behind him, You can watch my talk here:

Laura has a beautiful eye for putting together a show that feels soulful, curious, refined, and alive. Assemblage became a rich conversation between materials, stories, textures, and perspectives - and it was a joy to participate alongside such a strong gathering of women artists here in Montana.

The hat was custom made for my Aunt Nora during her years in Texas. The first time I tried it on - decades ago now - she smiled and said it was meant for me someday.

Occasionally an artwork refuses to let you leave without it. Such was the case with this beautiful porcelain bird lamp by Kelly Stevenson.

Fire Horse

There are moments when something opens… and there is no going back to the way it was before.

On stage…

Vú Ja Dè was one of those nights - an evening of artists gathering without script, creating in real time, held only by presence and trust.

“Paint and tears flowing - my edges felt edgeless - my heart soft, expansive and powerful.”

From my journal…

Painting while sharing energy, love, loss, presence…it felt like riding a Fire Horse bareback.
Gentleness. Power.

Moments barely hanging on - knowing I could be thrown, and also feeling the horse and I in flight.

I had to trust memory carried through lifetimes of making while immersed in the energy of the audience - the energy of my dear friends on stage and my own emotions.

Prayer and play.

I wasn’t just painting a horse - I was cracking something open in myself. The veil was thin. I became devotion.

Now I am back in the quiet of the studio. Back in the stable. Muscles still trembling from the ride.

The painting is here with me and I am listening for what it wants now.

Vú Ja Dè was a threshold night. An activation. A transformation. Holding intense presence. Feeling everything. No sense of time

Flow - and flowing.

Offering and receiving. Emergence and impermance revealed.

For those who feel curious to witness the evening as it unfolded, the livestream is still available here → Vú Ja Dè event photos courtesy of Yarrow Kranner

Bringing Jake to Life 🔥

Jake receiving his patina - the final breath of fire before bronze becomes forever. Grateful for the gifted hands of artist Joe Wayne, whose eye for color and touch with flame bring warmth and soul to metal.

The Joy of Connection

One of my favorite things about attending shows is witnessing the reactions and connections people have with my work.

Raymond and I always invite visitors to touch and hold the sculptures. You can easily see how much they want to. There’s something special about that moment of contact - when bronze, story, and spirit meet in a pair of small hands or a curious heart.

Sculpture in the Park

There’s a special energy in the air each year at Sculpture in the Park; artists, collectors, friends, and families gathered in celebration of creativity and connection.

One of my favorite parts is simply being there - surrounded by bronze, laughter, and stories - reconnecting with familiar faces and meeting new kindred spirits.

Grateful for the opportunity to share my work and heart under the big Colorado sky.

Whisper of Porcelain, Echo of Bronze

Meet the newest incarnation of Munch - a long ago sold-out bronze reborn in porcelain, thanks to a collaboration with my dear friend and master ceramist mold maker Jeremy Hatch. He created a plaster replica, which I brought to my studio before it had fully dried.

Moist-yet-firm, the cool, aromatic earthen form spent several days in my loving hands as I joyfully chiseled new details into every curve and crevice of this beloved sculpture.

Now, Munch has been remastered - not as a replica but as a new expression. Still nestled in quiet repose, still wrapped in the soft curl of leaves and fur - luminous, elegant and timeless.
👉 You can watch a short video of me carving the porcelain here

Opening Night: Zen Rabbits

A handful of my Zen Rabbits hopped into the world for this show. Quiet companions born from charcoal, breath, and the stillness between thoughts. Each one carries a whisper of calm, a moment of pause in a complex world. I drew them during mornings wrapped in silence, when my mind softened and the hand simply followed my heart. Seeing them on the wall - simple, tender, unguarded - felt like watching peace take shape.

"Freedom Found"

Carved from a split tree, this reliquary holds the story of rising.

A horse mid-leap. Wild and unbridled the horse bears scars of turquoise tears and triumph.
She leaps toward a window of stars; a portal carved into time.

The red feathered ribbon swirls like breath and blood - like the prayers we whisper
when we’re ready to return to ourselves.

This piece is for the moment the soul remembers:
you are not broken.
You are breaking free.

A Quiet Sendoff from an Old Companion

There’s a quiet comfort in finding an old friend just when you’re about to leave - even if he’s made of bronze. I carved this young buffalo from Black Walnut in my 20s. Frankly, he carved a part of me.

Now, decades later, he waits, steady and silent - a patient companion at the threshold of so many journeys. I leave, I return and still he waits, steady as the mountains that first shaped us both.

Izar

“I felt compelled to look at ‘Izar.’ My focus immediately spiraled into his eye. I felt jolted, shaken, and then flooded with soothing waves. As if I was being held, contracted with and released. It was something…flow.”

The words above were recently shared with me via text by someone who has this raven print “Izar” in his life.

Alchemy through art.

Click here to view the whole painting

Existing between and within worlds…

I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole, into a realm where light dances with vibrant hues and shadows play with time. Here, evocative scenes invite contemplation and transcend ordinary boundaries.

Winter Solstice - journal thoughts and drawings

Christmas tree lights delight me and accompany early morning journaling during the longest nights of the year…

"Hakuko" - from "The Secret Keeper Series"

Created with mixed media: burned wood, gold leaf, turkey skull, lingerie and feathers

Each skull is a thumbprint of the life it bore.  Naked.  Stripped from the colored clothing and of flesh; vulnerable and venerable.  Bones whisper.  

I’m drawn to the whispering.  I listen.  I respond.  I adorn.

“The Secret Keepers” series were born during the weeks spent in service to ten turkey skulls and their whisperings.

“Hakuko” is adorned with remnants from my own nightgown along with Blue Jay feathers and plastic pearls from my wedding preparations - mounted on gold leaf and burned wood.

I couldn’t be more thrilled with the special being who purchased “Hakuko” at my studio open house last month. Today I will carefully pack and ship the piece to its new home in Tucson.

Please respond, call, email or text if you are interested in seeing more of the “Secret Keepers”

(the feathers were sustainably sourced in the UK)

From my tub to you...

Candles lit, I lie within the comfort of my o’l clawfoot tub; grateful for my bones - feeling their connection to earth and ancestors. Somehow this new artwork feels like being shared with you at this moment.

“Birthright of Fancy” - mixed media painting available in Shop

Bhutanese Prayer Flags

For thousands of years, prayer flags have been created and hung to promote peace, compassion, strength and wisdom. Raymond and I brought these home from Bhutan.

Three prayer flags were raised in front of my studio one-year-to-the-day after Cliff’s death. Three more prayer flags were added on our first anniversary. Nine days later three more flags were raised one year after my mother’s death. The nine prayer flags danced through nearly two full years of sun and snow.

Released by air and wind, prayers and mantras sanctify and purify all-pervading space which becomes a permanent part of the Universe even as the flags fade. Life is replaced by new life. Prayer flags acknowledge the greater cycle which all beings are part of. I gathered the tattered and torn material before the elements scattered them to the ground. Precious pieces of the prayer flags have been dancing their way into my work… finding new life.

"Izar"

Birds have been visiting. Cawing, calling, flitting, hovering, pecking, poking, provoking, beckoning me into portals of memory - connecting me to spirits, ancestors and the moment; the present of presence.