How I became an animal portrait artist.
It was serendipity that put me here in a studio, brush in hand, canvas at arm’s length, the light against my back and shoulders. My paintings evolve one stroke at a time, beginning with lush color to define the eyes (soul), and soon, there is the wondrous suggestion of a floppy ear, a wet nose, an arched tail. For me, the process is always at once painstakingly meticulous and thoroughly miraculous.This is my domain now, but the hub of my world was once the 4-6x girls department at Lord & Taylor in New York City where I was assistant buyer, choosing styles, picking labels, and ordering designers – all to create a racked universe for the shopper’s choosing. It was a fast-paced, high-intensity, executive training job at the fashion matrix of the US and I loved every minute of it. It was the genesis of my corporate spirit and my entrepreneurial soul and there were other corporate jobs to follow. From retail sales, I became a recruiter, specializing in finding the right employees for companies like Nabisco and Ralph Lauren.
And eventually, I was at a corporate sales convention in Maui when I found myself one day looking into a pool of water in the hotel lobby and, instead of my own reflection, I saw koi fish swimming. I had never seen them before or even heard of them, and they mesmerized me. I shot a roll of photographs with my camera and when I got home, their vibrancy inspired me. I could not explain to my husband then, nor to myself now why, but I pulled out my paints and set up my easel - all tools of a trade I had left largely untouched in the years since I earned my MFA. I liked the color contrast of the water, I thought the koi were beautiful, exotic and enchanting. And then I came to realize that I really had seen my reflection in that hotel lobby, because after all, now I was recreating what I saw in the pool, painting the koi in my photographs, capturing their colors and their underwater movement with my oil paints.
My life as an artist began to evolve, taking shape, one stroke at a time.
I soon started to get commissions and I gave up my job. The corporate world in which I had spent decades of my life working now wanted my paintings to hang in building lobbies and company boardrooms. The Japanese consider koi fish a symbol of love and friendship and for whatever reason, they seemed to strike some deep, resonant chord with those who saw my paintings. My koi paintings line the walls of institutions like Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston and Citigroup in Manhattan, but I didn’t want to be one dimensional as an artist any more than I wanted to be one dimensional as a person. That’s when I began, on a whim, to paint dogs. My cocker spaniel Pinky was always with me in the studio, old and steady and familiar. I thought to myself, “I want to paint something I can touch.” And so, I did.
My first painting of Pinky prompted me to paint others. And other people who saw my dog paintings asked me to paint their dogs. My life as an artist continued to evolve, taking shape, one stroke at a time. My dog groomer asked me to paint her dog Jerrie. She said, “Often when we lose a companion we struggle to find ways to memorialize them.” Another friend asked me to paint her Rhodesian ridgeback, and another, her Norwich terrier. Soon, strangers were contacting me by word of mouth. Could I paint their dog’s portrait?
Since then, so many people have said I have captured their dog’s essence and caught it in a snapshot of time with oil paint. It is an awe-inspiring task and one which I take on with an earnest commitment. From koi to cocker spaniels, my subjects soothe the soul, heal the heart, acclaim the earth and in my most Zen moments, I feel deeply connected to the creatures I paint and to the greater world we all share.
To view a slideshow of my paintings, click here.