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 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-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
Rooted in Return...
I thoroughly enjoyed the sacred art of porch sit’n during my trip to the Deep South—feet up, mug in hand, heart tuned to the rhythm of frogs and falling rain…
My time there unfurled like Spanish moss—slow, sacred, stretched long with porch-sitting and soul-sipping. A week deep in sisterhood, surrounded by the soft stillness of cicadas and ceremony, punctuated by a sing-out-loud solo spin down the tree-lined interstate to reunite with family. Realignment.
My heart feels fuller, my skin softer, and my breath a little deeper after brushing the dust off my spirit in the wild, moist lushness of ancient forest and my dear friend’s magical creative cabin.
Raymond met me at the airport with a grin and a long hug; sharing how much he enjoyed watching my bronze bison bench keep company with every traveler passing through.
Home feels familiar as a lifetime.
Our love lives between lifetimes.
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 him from Black Walnut in my 20s — and 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.
"Diving into Delight: Meet the Playful Otter Bronzes"
Raymond and I found ourselves in the beautiful Colorado wilderness around this time last year, driven by the sole purpose – or rather, a soul purpose: delivering the original clay otter sculptures to one of the country's most esteemed foundries. After five months of anticipation, the first few otter sculptures became available in May. Since then, these playful otter pairs have been joyfully making their way into collectors' homes.
Finally, the moment has arrived when I have a few in stock and can officially announce them to the world. Crafted in solid bronze, these otters are eager to infuse your holiday season with love, whimsy, and a touch of mischief.
Little Brushes, Tiny touches
Raymond took these photos during the patina process at the Adonis Foundry in Salt Lake City. Two of the three local bronze foundries I’ve worked with for more than twenty years did not survive the multiple challenges brought on by COVID, thus I’ve been prompted to look beyond the local foundry scene. Bronze casting has been around since the third millennium B.C. The industry (along with so many industries) has been hit hard with major increases in the cost of materials, shipping and hard-to-find skilled labor. Bronze art can be passed through generations and enjoyed for thousands of years - a enduring medium in a world of increasingly disposable things.
Newest Palm-size Bronze...delayed debut.
Patience and persistence have never been strangers to me but they certainly unpacked their suitcases and plopped themselves into many of our lives. Ten months have passed since this little bugger went to the foundry. The pandemic pounded bronze foundries across the country. Two out of the three local foundries I’ve worked with for decades had to close. Finally I can offer this little bugger to the public for adoption as I’ve a few fresh from the foundry. Just a few. For now…
Bronze edition closing...
ONE left. The very last “Little Bird” in the edition of 100 sculptures. Who will the lucky adoptee be?
At the foundry - the first bears get their color
Yesterday afternoon I visited the foundry to oversee the patina process for the new little bears. Each bear is painstakingly colored by hand using a process of heat and chemicals. The three buggers you see here will become “foundry proofs” - used as reference for future bears. Nearly four months after dropping off the original clay creations; I finally got to hold the little buggers in my hand. They feel good. Actually, it’s hard to put them down they feel so good - like a perfect stone or talisman that naturally fits in the palm of your hand. I can’t wait for you to feel them…!
Guess who's coming out of hibernation?
Meet “Bear” - the NEW palm-size bronze. Shown here in clay, the sculpture was created at the beginning of the year (check earlier posts for photos of the initial lump of clay). My intention was to create a cub but my infatuation with a plump belly transformed the little cub into a more grown up bear - which I couldn’t resist yet the original idea to create a bear cub stuck tenaciously like honey. I grabbed another lump of clay to explore “cub-ness” - then another lump and another lump…
The cubs are siblings. They will be sold as a pair because I don’t have the heart to split them up. All three bears were delivered to the foundry in February. They have been "sheltering in place" just like the rest of us until last week when peeps were allowed to return to work.
I will see the first bronze bears in a few days which is rather fitting since Raymond and Tala saw a big pile of fresh bear poop while hiking near our cabin this morning.
Check out the “shop” to see more photos of the bear sculptures (preorders are happening right now).
New Year - new little Palm-size critter...
First twenty minutes or so into the NEW little palm-size bronze sculpture…
"Mouse"
Just before Christmas last year I was told the story of a mouse who had become a teacher’s pet. The mouse would come out from behind the old radiator and beg for crumbs (which the teacher provided) thus the school adopted a mouse as its mascot. When the school turned into a community art center decades later, I was asked to create a mouse as a fundraiser for them. Inspired by the mouse mascot story, “Mouse” is the most recent edition to the palm-size bronze series.
Meet "Suki"
Suki makes me happy. She makes Raymond happy.
We just love having her in our home.
Loaded with personality and charm, only nineteen bunnies will be cast because Suki deserves to be precious even though it will break my heart a little when the limited edition sells out.
The "Cliffy" owl is almost gone...
I hadn’t planned on creating an owl but during the first full moon of 2016, a Great Horned Owl visited me. The majestic creature sat like a sentinel on top of my beloved tree outside our cabin. I stood at our bedroom window, captivated. When Tala was a little puppy, Cliff used to call me on nights when I worked at the studio past dark to warn me if an owl was outside. The owl could easily snatch our little round glow-in-the-dark furball pup if I didn’t protect her on the walk home. The point is, owls are not rare up here but that owl, that night, was so vivid and powerful that I felt compelled to sculpt a palm-size owl for 2016.
Cliff was exceptionally excited about the sculpture, partly because it was an owl and partly because I was finally sculpting after the long PTSD caused hiatus from studio life. But then Cliff died unexpectedly and I could not finish the sculpture. During 2016, I lost Cliff, my mother, my aunt and my cat. I got married, totaled my truck and left for Bhutan to carve for the king. I did not complete the yearly palm-size bronze. Again and again I picked up the little lump of “owlish” clay but simply could not create. On a cold winter night in 2017 I gave a stranded motorist a ride to his home up Paradise Valley, a giant Great Horned Owl flew past my truck window and looked directly at me. Those of you who know Cliff know he was legendary for the assistance he gave friends, family and strangers alike. I knew it was time to finish the little owlet. Emotional but healing, the little sculpture began to find itself while a fire crackled in my studio.
I felt so much of Cliff while working on his owl that of course “Cliffness” emanates from the owlet. He was one-of-a-kind, gentle, strong and damn loyal.
Only seven bunnies left...!
Tea, bunny and me...
During a cold dark January five years ago, I began each day at my dining room table with a large cup of tea and a small lump of clay. My beautiful dream studio was an inspirational walk through the woods. Why wasn’t I creating there?
Odd.
But my studio had HUGE piles of sawdust and my studio office had HUGE piles of desk work. I decided to begin the year by catching up and clearing the desk, maybe even taking a short break from the sawdust yet I couldn’t not create so this little critter happened beneath the antique chandelier on the carved-by-me deep purple stained dining room table in my tiny little cabin as the moon hung in a fuzzy cold crystalized sky and the sun slept in.
“Wee Bunny” was offered as a gift from me to those of you who, like me, haven’t room for giant tree sculptures in your homes. Motivated by the thought of your hands warming the bronze, my desire was to create a palm-size sculpture which elicited an almost instinctive desire to be picked up. Held. Warmed. Loved.
My other thought was to create an especially affordable sculpture in an edition size large enough that many of you could have one.
One hundred sculptures in the edition - the largest edition I’d ever launched. Yet small enough to be a valuable edition. Only one hundred.
The process of bronze casting is labor intensive, a new mold has to be made for each bunny cast. But I kept the price wholesale which meant I had to turn down the galleries that wanted to sell the little bugger.
“Wee Bunnies” hopped into homes all over this country and beyond.
Only seven bunnies are left…!
Certainly the last bunnies will quickly find homes once the announcement is made via social media. If you planned to get a bunny and haven’t, or know someone who should - then act quickly before the edition is sold out.
"Wee Bunny" can be purchased on my site HERE
Local peeps - don’t pay shipping charges. For LOCAL DELIVERY enter CODE: postfree at checkout. Shipping charges will be removed. We will be in touch with you for delivery or pick up.
I wonder who will get #100…?
BIG little eaglet - a good deed that grew...
One morning several years ago I found myself wondering just what I'd gotten myself into?!!
Image after image of baby eagles were spread across my largest workbench and they were......ugly...! Lordy I had no idea that baby eagles were not only homely and gawky but they had "angry bird" eyes (just think of the heavy eyebrows on adult eagles). My intention was to create a totally irresistible sculpture to speak to the attitude I witnessed in youth and people at Eaglemount. Near and dear to my heart the non-profit Eagle Mount is committed to provide quality therapeutic recreational opportunities for people with disabilities and young people with cancer, and to provide support for families of participants. I'd been a volunteer in their ski program for several winters until caring for my mother in her battle with her Alzheimer's took priority in my life. I leveraged "artistic license" to create a palm size sculpture for Eagle Mount who reaped the benefit of 100% profits from the edition. Inspired, they even began selling chocolate sculptures molded from the original baby eagle which they named "Soren - the little eagle that could."
Last week the former director of Eagle Mount joined me in the foundry spray booth to oversee the patina of a new BIG little eaglet. The bugger will be installed at the Eagle Mount playground. I love knowing the brand new shiny patina is destined to be worn off with hugs and love from the children who will enjoy the “Little Eagle who Could.”