This is what I’ve been painting while listening to these two books. If you haven’t read In Love by Amy Bloom or The Correspondent by Virginia Evans, I can’t recommend them enough. Read them close together if you can. They have a lot to say to each other.
One of the oldest painting techniques in the world, encaustic has been around since ancient Egypt — but my approach to it is anything but traditional. Here’s what the medium is, why I work dot by dot, and what makes this process feel completely like mine.
There are actors who disappear into roles, and then there are actors whose humanity makes every character more vivid, more alive. Mark Ruffalo has always been the latter. From Ken Lonergan’s This Is Our Youth to the revival of Odets’ Awake and Sing!, his early stage work reveals the emotional intelligence and grounded complexity that would define his entire career. These productions aren’t just theatrical milestones—they’re reminders of why Ruffalo remains one of the most honest and compelling actors of our time.
While my hands are busy with wax and color, my mind often wanders through the worlds of L.A. Theatre Works. This introduction explains how audio storytelling fits into my studio practice, and why I’m starting to write about the plays that keep me inspired, focused, and very good company.
What happens when centuries-old techniques meet molten wax? In my latest post, I share how I use encaustic and a wax stylus to build vibrant, textured surfaces—one dot at a time. It’s a tactile twist on tradition that keeps viewers leaning in for a closer look.
My latest Drunkard’s Path paintings explore more than the quilt block itself. Inspired by the tradition of all-over quilting stitches, I’m experimenting with surface patterns that flow across the entire composition, creating a second layer of rhythm and texture that complements—rather than simply outlines—the underlying geometry.