Cotton Boll Metal Tree Decoration

I was a Yankee girl who is now a Southern woman fascinated, and inspired, by my life lived below the Mason Dixon line. I am intentional about capturing the places and things we hold so dear, both new and rusty, before they are washed from our collective memories, like a good sideways rain in August, and gone forever: a single cotton boll in full bloom, quirky roadside Americana and Rock City barns, mint juleps served cold to front porch guests and watching the oyster boats move effortlessly in and out of Apalachicola Bay. I hope that my art evokes strong emotions, lengthy conversations, bodacious laughter, tried and true recipes shared and maybe even a happy tear or two. Pour yourself a tall glass of sweet tea and come on in: I'm so glad you're here!