I use the minimally essential amount of lines
to celebrate the essence of these dazzling creatures. And an iPencil.
Installation. Manny's Bistro, NYC...
Tony. Guest Crooner at Manny's Bistro. Even Lady Liberty swoons.
MaryLou. Of stage, screen, bookshelves and a keen memory.
James. Metropolitan Opera, Tenor.
Amanda. Renowned cellist and her constant service companion River.
Manny. Jazz devotee and owner of the newly named best new French Bistro in NYC.
Yuja. Classical music's Rock Star with a repertoire as long as her gams.
Michael. Actor. Musician. Buddhist.
Cindy. Icon.
SJ. Bestselling Mystery Writer and her cat.
A smattering of individual commissions ...
Pinchas. World renowned violinist.
Charlotte. Anniversary celebration of all she loves.
Halle. Farewell to her St John The Devine school peacocks off to retire to the country.
Rose. Med student. Tiara fan. On her way to the Nobel Peace Prize.
Silke & Kaitlin. River bank wedding. One Guest.
Izabella. Personal trainer. Lila, lounger. Both beach bums.
Amanda. Amanda's composer dad now visits her from beyond as a fly.
Lucia. The smallest swimmer with the biggest dreams.
Susan. Champagne and fashion loving Aussie.
Mary. This once professional ice skater now glides in to rescue dogs.
Ann. Dreams of culinary classes in Rome.
Stephanie. New Yorker. New Mommy. New apartment. New baby.
Self Portrait
Dee, she said, you are too old to start something new. I had not confided in my friend that at the age of sixty-two I had decided to become a ballerina. I had confided that writing and drawing had rested far too long within me. A bear, stretching from his slumber in search of the sweetest berry. Persistent, my friend. Dee, do you know how many writers and illustrators there are in New York City alone? The chances of success are equal to the chances of the sky turning green. And I thought, the sky can turn green? How lovely.
