On this Artist Date, take a closer look at the poetry of hands. You might be surprised what happens next.
Ready for an Artist Date? Lace up your red sneakers and let’s go walk out to pick up the mail.
Come along on an Artist Date? This week, we explore a state capitol and see what its history can tell us.
Come along on an Artist Date? This week, we’re looking in the mirror of the Milky Way.
Take an Artist Date with us? This week, we’re walking down Kisco Avenue, turning left onto Preston, then coming full circle.
Come along on an Artist Date? This week we’re riding a Rockhopper.
Join us on an Artist Date? This week, we’re going on a Pink walk. No kidding.
Come along on an Artist Date? This week, we’re humming to layers of souls.
Come along for an Artist Date? This week, we’re flying.
Come along on an Artist Date? This week, we’re driving through Western Massachusetts, in the space between reason and intuition.
I know where I’m going on this Artist Date, so I pop Lady Gaga out of the player and flick in Alison Krauss and Union Station, Lonely Runs Both Ways.
Take an Artist Date in the frigid early spring air above a spillway pulsating with rich white foam.
Take an Artist Date to the un-useful plant section of a conservatory. Un-useful, that is, unless you see the value of sudden play.
My Artist Date found me paddle-boarding among the barrier islands of the Indian River Lagoon near my home here in Florida.
Freezing rain and an ice storm in progress provided a sensory treat for an unexpected Artist Date.
The artist date is a play date you plan with yourself, by yourself. Go to the river, build a snowman, run your hands over paper and paints at a funky supply store.
The Artist Date is a dream-child of Julia Cameron. Come along on this one, to a back store room at Meininger’s.