Our Story

With a back-story of thirty years as a botanical artist, I’ve lived close to nature. In my own ebb and flow-my art seems to keep me connected to the natural world or maybe it is the natural world that keeps me connected to my art. Whatever the courier, it has led me deeper into my own awakening.

Consciously conscious is the new drum to beat: making a call to action on an everyday icon, the t-shirt and doing so with two words-verbs and their sister siblings nouns-adjectives. I invite you to encourage courage, value values, judge judgment.

Supporting the belief that we all crave to belong, to contribute, or to make a mark that matters, I believe we begin with a voice.

  • What if two words could provoke a purpose?
  • What if two carefully crafted, perfectly placed words could raise awareness, enlighten, empower and encourage?
  • What if two words–not even a complete sentence, just a phrase–told a story, expressed a thought, fitted a feeling? What if you chose only two words to express yourself and with that, invited and inspired another to do the same?

The quest — to make a difference, make a change, change a mind and in doing so raise a collective consciousness. For, as Muse mountain might suggest, …challenge challenge.

Tag, you’re it.

Meet the woman behind the words


Born as the last child, the “oops” child, the favorite child 🙂 and a child with an excess of right brain activity, I’ve always been at my best when left alone- alone as in endless hours, even days of me being with, well, me. Solitude by choice is the field where most creative people bring their picnics.

Solitude. Space. Yes, space.
“I need space” means different things to different people, so I like to offer it out with a follow-up line like, “…where the buffalo roam” kind of space.

How to explore, express or define a woman’s mind and what makes her heart sing might be best left to the individual who dares take her pulse. I will not bore one with details.

This I can say, it would take endless words scribbled on dog eared pages, seasoned with color, embroidered with gossamer and bound together with rusty barbed wire gathered from an old New England stone fence for me to begin to unwrap and introduce myself to you.

Nestle in instead, the fire’s warm.