Gallery

Artist's statement / focus

My work is a reflection of my experiences, my relationships, and my surroundings. The themes of family history and landscape are woven together in my paintings, creating a visual narrative that speaks to the cyclical nature of life and the passage of time.

Through my art, I strive to capture the fleeting beauty of a moment, preserving it forever on canvas. The process of painting is a battle for me, as I seek to bring my vision to life, but it is also a dance with the subject, allowing it to take on a life of its own. I believe that the beauty of nature is universal and timeless, and I aim to translate that beauty into my paintings. I see my art as an invitation for the viewer to step into my world, to see what I see and to experience the emotions that I feel.

In the end, my goal as an artist is to create pieces that resonate with others, that evoke their own memories and emotions, and that serve as a reminder of the beauty and fragility of life.

Landscapes

Hyrum Dam

8 x 10 acrylic on canvas panel, $250 framed

Forgotten Farm

6 x 6, Sold

Fires in the West

NFS

Wardsworth Trail, Hobble Creek Canyon

From a photo by Linda Paulsen

View through the Poppies

10 x 8 acrylic on canvas panel, $250 framed

Colorado Spring

10 x 8, oil on canvas panel, $250 framed

You Can't Go Home Again

11x14, Acrylic, NFS

View from the Porch

16x20, Acrylic, NFS

Cayote Gulch Fall

16 x 20, Acrylic, $650 framed

A Road South

12 x 19 acrylic on canvas, $600 w/ premium frame

$450 unframed

See More Landscapes

Family History

Edward Oliver in Nebraska, 1860

Edward Oliver

Edward Oliver, 1811–1876

A 5 x 7 oil representation of an ancestor.

The Original

A 1 x 2 inch high-contrast, poor quality black and white

There is always a back story in family history and Edward Oliver in Buffalo County Nebraska in 1860 is no exception.

A Bygone Era Brought Back

Charles Izatt Mowing the Front Yard

Charles Izatt, 1872 – 1938

The man is resolved to accomplish a menial task. It is early afternoon, and the day’s work started with milking at 5 a.m. Now there is a moment to relax and let the horses do their job.

Mowing the yard is a thankless task that must be done. Tired from the day, the man slumps on the mowing machine and lets the cleats of the wheels jostle him as they hit the hard ground and his thoughts turn to family and the supper that awaits at the end of the day. …or he may think of nothing at all, numbed by the forward movement of the mower and the relentless noise of the cutters—just relax and get this job done.

The man is Charles Izatt; the place is his ranch in Thatcher, Idaho. The connection is that he is my wife's grandfather.

The Importance of the Mundane

4 x 6, Client Photo

Sometimes you can work for months on a painting only to learn the true meaning a year later. Such it is with Parley's Pride. A picture of the painting accompanied this article in the Deseret News in 2015.

Parley's Pride, 24 x 36

The meaning of the painting is expressed best here:

“Why I don’t call myself a ‘Mormon feminist,’” Deseret News, March 26, 2015

“Marriage in the temple was another reminder that we can’t receive every celestial blessing on our own. My new vulnerability was ultimately like closing the proverbial umbrella to receive a shower of heavenly blessings that sometimes even drenched and always sustained.

“Temple ordinances taught me that my husband needed me, and I needed him, and we both needed the Savior to succeed. Those truths parallel to daily drudgeries as well. When we don’t work as a team and when we don’t turn to God for guidance, our finances are a mess, we are less-than-our best in our careers and our children exploit any semblance of a divide. The opposite has proven to be true—not any easier, but true, nonetheless.

“My wise father grew up on a farm in southeastern Idaho where his father trained Clydesdale horses. His favorite parable for marriage is a team of horses that can’t move forward unless they are walking side-by-side and equally yoked. He also frequently counseled me, and many others, that marriage isn’t 50/50, but each must give a 100 percent in order to succeed.

“Last Christmas, my dad commissioned a painting of his father holding the reins of his draft horses during a horse-pulling competition at the fairgrounds. Every time I walk past the print my parents gave each of their children, I remember to share the yoke. But I’m also reminded how the Savior holds the reins and gives us gentle reminders when we stray from a progressive path.” —Stacie Duce (Parley's granddaughter)