I'm always a sucker for a good story. True or false, embellished or enhanced, no matter. As long as the characters reek of lore, romanticism, heroism, cynicism, narcissism. All the ”isms”

Please be the character development layered, complex, checkered and juicy.

As if held up to the light every flawed trait would be both messy and beautiful.

Intellectual with a slight tilt of mind-bending out-of-the-box-plot twists.

Jennifer Lanne canvas pillows

Heck, I grew up on soap operas where dramatic personae

had fantastical god-like names like

Ridge, Thorne, Holden.

They were bold, beautiful, young and restless.

Laugh if you must, but the more ridiculous the story the better.

Plus among the fluff and absurdities there was an unintentional deep message.

As if no matter how grim the situation you could prevail and survive anything.

You could fall of a cliff, drink poison or be killed off by your evil twin with plastic-surgery-to-not-look-like-your-twin

and then walk back onto the screen 4 episodes later all the better for it,

in fact thriving.

Oh, the optimism!

There’s lure to such crazy story lines riddled with obscurities.

Where one has to dig deep amongst all the fluff to find the meaning.

A hidden place where if you root around you can even unravel even the most quizzical Dennis Miller references.

So gimme flawed dispositions, imperfect demeanors, ambiguous situations. (quite possibly where my penchant for distressed finishes comes from, perfection being overrated, gleaming of unrealistic.)

So I just love a good story…go ahead, ramble on and as long as it tells a tale. Prattle on about figures who are ready to strike a pose like there’s nothing to it.

Make me a moment where heroism is the mainstay.

Utmost theatrical.

So, in this mindset my

Pictorial Collection was conceived.

Sprung forth from my head like the birth of Athena .

A collection laden with figurals and scenes.

where everyone is living their best lives.

Canvas pillow stories that can sit like plump bavardages on your furniture.

Petite printed backdrops to add that flavor and labrish to your walls.

Large portfolio-sized zippered pouches (or pochettes) to gossip about.

So tell a tall tale. Bedizen a bit, add some meaning, throw in a few mythical beings…my interest is peaked!


The merry month of May.

It's a long wait to see the green for us northerners.

Kudos to the virtues of patience.

It's well worth it.

As I get older I'm finding joy in all the seasons, but always true to the warmer months.

(winter has always been my red-headed stepchild of the seasons, however I'm warming up to it.)

Maybe it’s my undying love for chartreuse or the passion I have for the deciduous.

First come the greening of the drapey willows . then the flowerings, then the lilacs and then lastly. late-to-the-party, arbor explosion of grapevine leaves.

Something so magically poetic about the return to lush.


Fresh moss, parading it’s sweet-self on by an antique urn
Bantam hen perched on grapevines
Fiddle dee dee! Fiddle head ferns making their Spring debut
Fresh moss for Archer!
Lilac leaf sprig festooning an old iron ring

Sprig of viburnum getting ready for showtime
Lilacs love to pose!

Why so much felicity Bluebird?

Is it the glint and flick of sapphire as you caper the sky?

Or the truth of the happiness you herald us by?

Ok, not exactly Tennyson but I do try.

Truly thou, I do implore.

Bluebirds are the poster children of happiness but why? Years ago at an auction, I bid exuberantly on a framed, hand-embroidered piece of passerines ... dipping and diving with the word “happiness” embroidered below .

it wasn’t until years later I actually realized the sentiment was “Bluebirds for Happiness”.

They are enchanting little creatures, fulgently blue. Mystifying to see. I gaze upon them with the same wide-eyed wonderment as Gerry from Corfu.

Harbingers of happiness and sprites of the most brilliant blue.

So there’s this via googling:

The Iroquois believe that the bluebird is a harbinger of spring that fights off the evil demigod of winter, Tawiscaron. According to folklore, many Native Americans hung dry gourds to entice bluebirds to nest

near their settlements so they can enjoy their enchanting songs of happiness and hope.

Well, that says it all.

I’m going with that.



Embroidered “Happiness For Bluebirds” ...my auction win!