In 2001, my family made the move up the river from New York City to the Hudson Valley. This move was akin to a marriage of commitment, following a lifetime affair. A honeymoon in the crisp November fall of the Bear Mountains; a spring hike in the Catskills; a quenching excursion to waterparks in the high summer heat, which then transformed into gentle ski slopes come winter. So when we finally made the move, it felt like coming home.

Ironically, the move began my decade long hiatus from painting; what need was there, after all, when I was living the artwork of nature? But when my youngest child left for college in 2013 and the house creaked empty once more, I found myself returning to my old paint box.

I started with my 400 year old oak tree behind the house, which has come to represent so much to me. This tree, stretching its long arms over our house and across neighbors’ yards, this tree had seen it all. It welcomed New York’s first Dutch settlers centuries ago, as it so similarly welcomed me decades ago. And it has also watched generations pass away, in the same way I too will flicker by in my momentary life. And yet, this tree, these mountains and valleys and rivers—they are the true inhabitants of this land. I am merely a passing guest. This artwork is my tribute to that eternal beauty and nature of the Hudson Valley.