Over the years, I’ve celebrated many birthdays for my children. But today feels especially meaningful. My eldest has grown into an adult who no longer needs a birthday party in the traditional sense. Still, before he fully steps into the world on his own, I wanted to give him one last little celebration at home.

What made this day even more special was the effort of his younger sister. She woke up early and got to work in the kitchen, determined to make a cake all by herself. She had seen a creative cake idea on YouTube and told me she wanted to recreate it exactly. The concept was both simple and imaginative: carve out the center of a sheet cake, pour in blue gelatin to resemble the sea, and add gummy fish to make it look like an ocean scene. Cocktail umbrellas served as the perfect decorative touch, adding a beachy, playful atmosphere.

Of course, the result wasn’t a picture-perfect influencer-style cake—and that didn’t matter one bit. What mattered most was that she made it with her own two hands, from start to finish, and with so much love for her brother. When she finished, she gave me a proud high five, and my heart swelled with joy.

I’m sure her older brother could feel the care and creativity baked into every bite. Watching them both—one stepping into adulthood, the other pouring her heart into something handmade—I was overwhelmed with gratitude.
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Our little home party may not have been fancy, but it was full of meaning. It reminded me that the most special celebrations are the ones made with sincerity, love, and shared memories.

As my birthday approaches, I find myself quietly looking back on the journey I’ve walked. This year’s birthday feels different—not just a mark of time passing, but a deeply personal moment to honor myself, to truly celebrate how far I’ve come. I feel a gentle love for who I’ve become, and a deep sense of gratitude for the strength that carried me here.

There were times in the past when even those closest to me—people I considered family—chose not to acknowledge my birthday. Those memories used to hurt. But today, I find myself able to forgive them, sincerely and from the heart. I wish for light to fill their lives, for their hearts to be warmed and brightened by peace and joy. I hope they, too, find healing and love.

It has taken many years to create even a small space where people care for each other with genuine kindness. There were times when even that felt impossibly hard—times when I was so exhausted, I cried quietly alone. But now I know that small, loving spaces, while hard-won, are worth every effort. They’re sacred.

Living far from home in a foreign land, I slowly rebuilt my life with my own hands. There were many challenges—loneliness, financial hardship, and the constant pressure of doing it all without help. But I persevered. I worked hard, created art, taught with love, and continued writing my story one page at a time. It wasn’t always beautiful, but it was honest. And that, to me, is the truest kind of beauty.

To myself, I want to say: you’ve done well. You’ve endured so much, and you’ve done it with grace and strength. Thank you—for not giving up, for believing in your own quiet power. This birthday is a celebration of you. Not just for surviving, but for growing, for choosing love, and for building a life rooted in sincerity and hope.
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Happy birthday—to the person I’ve become, and to the one who kept going even when it was hard. I’m proud of you.

If you’ve been blogging for a while, you’ve probably run into spam comments—those odd, repetitive, or irrelevant messages that show up under your posts and have nothing to do with your content. Recently, I received a string of strange comments repeatedly asking someone to marry a person named Mahalia. Clearly spam.

Since I value the conversations that happen on my blog, I’ve taken a few steps to clean things up and prevent future spam. If you're also using Weebly, here’s what I recommend:

1. Manually Delete Spam Comments
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Weebly makes it easy to manage comments. From your blog settings, go to Website > Blog > Manage Comments. There, you’ll see a list of comments left on your posts. If you spot something suspicious, simply click the trash icon to delete it.

2. Turn on Comment Moderation

To avoid having spam published publicly, I enabled comment approval. You can do this in Settings > Blog > Comment Settings. With this on, all comments stay hidden until I manually approve them. It gives me peace of mind and keeps the blog clean.

3. Use the Spam Filter

Under the same settings menu, make sure “Enable spam filter” is checked. This feature filters out obvious spam automatically.

4. Consider Using a Third-Party Comment System

I’ve seen bloggers switch to Disqus for better moderation and spam protection. If spam becomes a regular issue, I might explore that route as well.

5. Keep a Clear Comment Policy
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I’ve added a short note below my blog posts that says:
“Comments are monitored. Spam or irrelevant messages will be removed.”
This sets expectations and helps filter out unwanted interactions.
Blogging should be about meaningful dialogue and sharing ideas—not fighting off spambots. With these tools in place, I feel more in control of my space and can focus on what I love: sharing art and connecting with my readers.

If you haven’t created a Disqus shortname yet:

• Go to https://disqus.com/profile/signup/intent/
  
• Choose “I want to install Disqus on my site”
  
• Follow the prompts to register your site and get the shortname
  

Even in the midst of a busy schedule, I make time to pick up my brush. Every summer, I quietly promise myself—I want to paint more. To honor that wish, I try to reach for my brush more often. And if I truly don’t have the time, I’ll at least paint something small, like a postcard-sized sketch. Like writing in a daily journal.

When I go too long without painting, I start to hear a sort of noisy static inside. Maybe it’s the imbalance I feel when I want to create but haven’t had the chance. So these days, I’ve been practicing painting without pressure—without a set theme or goal. I often draw from photographs I took while traveling, trying to recapture the feelings I had in those moments.

In the past, when I focused on something, I would pursue it obsessively until I was satisfied. Especially when it came to painting. But now, I’m learning to let things flow. Like color bleeding softly across wet paper, I want my process—and my thoughts—to flow freely. And within that flow, I want to observe, enjoy, and discover new energy and joy. That’s my goal for this year’s work.

Last year, I wrestled with the question, “Why do I pick up the brush?” It was a personal journey—an inner dialogue to rediscover my purpose. This year, my question has softened: “What kind of joy does painting bring me?” When you’ve been painting for a long time, it’s easy to become numb to the joy and meaning that once sparked your work. And when that happens, the danger of a creative slump grows. That’s why I believe joy is essential—not only for painting, but for everything we do. It is the spark that keeps our motivation alive. As an artist and teacher, I always try to center joy in both my own work and in what I share with students.

Painting is not physically difficult—brushes aren’t heavy, and the process doesn’t require great physical strength. But it does require a lot of emotional energy. That’s why it can be hard to even begin. And when starting feels hard, we naturally paint less. So this year, I’m focusing on painting more frequently, more simply, and always with joy at the center. I’m experimenting with a lighter, freer approach that sustains me instead of draining me.

I’m happy to share that process here. For me, maintaining a blog as an artist has become an important way to record my life, my thoughts, and my creative journey. Since 2021, I’ve posted regularly. And over time, writing has never become boring, meaningless, or discouraging. In fact, it’s become one of my best friends.

Writing helps me release stress, clear my mind, reflect on my path, and reconnect with meaning. It brings me out of fear, fatigue, and anxiety. And painting—though more demanding—is also my best friend. Unlike writing, painting takes more energy to start. But that’s precisely why I want to paint more often, and with more lightness.
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Sharing my thoughts and progress through this blog is part of what keeps me going. I believe the traces we leave—through words, images, and intentions—can one day become inspiration for someone else. And that’s more than enough reason to keep creating.

An open call is a powerful opportunity for artists. It's a process in which galleries, institutions, or curators invite artists to submit their work for consideration. While open to all, only a select number of pieces are accepted through a juried review—and those chosen earn the opportunity to exhibit. Sometimes it leads to a solo show, sometimes a group exhibition. There may be awards, recognition, and new connections.
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Participating in open calls regularly helps artists grow their careers, strengthen their portfolios, and refine their voices. I, too, have submitted my work to various open calls over the years. Being accepted not only opens doors to new exhibitions but also allows me to experience other artists’ work, reflect on my own progress, and understand where I stand within the broader creative community.

The Power of Open Calls in an Artist's Journey​

I’m grateful that one of my recent works, “Golden Hour on the Tidal Flats,” has been accepted into the Nature’s Palette exhibition, juried by the esteemed artist Charles Wildbank.
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This watercolor captures the stillness of a tidal flat at golden hour—soft light reflecting on shallow water, wind turbines standing quietly in the distance, and tiny human figures almost melting into the landscape.
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It’s a meditation on the balance between stillness and movement, humanity and nature, light and shadow.
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Every time I’m part of an exhibition through an open call, it becomes an opportunity not only to share my work, but also to reconnect—with others, and with my own artistic intention.

​This painting holds special meaning for me because it was inspired by a student’s artwork created during one of my art classes. As a teacher and an artist, I often find myself deeply moved by the creativity and sincerity of my students’ expressions. In this particular case, the student’s piece sparked something in me—a moment of recognition, a kind of silent dialogue between their vision and my own. I felt compelled to explore it further in my own way. As a result, I created two versions of this painting, each one reflecting a different emotional nuance I felt during the process. The act of reinterpreting the same scene twice allowed me to dive deeper into the inspiration and gave me space to reflect on the shared journey between teacher and student. It’s not just a painting; it’s a quiet tribute to the powerful exchange that happens in the classroom and a reminder of why I continue to teach and create.

​Although the two paintings are slightly different in expression, they are essentially versions of the same subject—born from the same inspiration. One of them is currently on view at the Port Jefferson Gallery as part of the Visions in Color exhibition, while the other has been selected through an open call to be exhibited at the Mills Pond Gallery for the Nature’s Palette show. The fact that these two works, created from the same seed of inspiration, will be presented simultaneously in different venues is deeply meaningful to me.
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It’s almost as if the original spark that moved me to paint has taken on a life of its own, branching into two paths—each shaped by its own mood, color palette, and emotional resonance. To witness these parallel expressions reaching different audiences at the same time is a rare and personal moment for me as both a teacher and an artist. It reflects not only the creative journey behind the works but also the shared influence between student and teacher, and the unexpected ways in which inspiration continues to grow.

The Importance of Artist Receptions

The artist reception, often held during an exhibition’s opening, is more than a formality—it’s a vital part of the creative process. It’s a moment to share the story behind the artwork, to meet other artists and curators, and to potentially sell one’s work or build lasting professional connections.

It is also where art steps out of the studio and into public conversation.
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For artists trying to establish or expand their presence within a community, these events are crucial. You never know who you might meet—someone who connects with your work, supports your practice, or opens a new door.

Beyond the Brush: Preparing for the Exhibition

Once your piece is accepted, there is a lot more to do. Each gallery has its own guidelines for:

• Framing
• Wiring for hanging
• Artist statements
• Wall labels or title cards
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It’s important to read the gallery’s instructions carefully and prepare everything precisely.
Sometimes, this work feels more demanding than painting itself—especially for visual artists who are used to expressing through images rather than formatted documents and logistics.
And yet, I find joy in this process.
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To me, preparing a piece for exhibition is like dressing it in its finest attire for a debutante ball. It’s a moment when my painting steps forward, ready to meet the world.

I’m thankful that this painting was selected, and that it now has the chance to be seen, experienced, and perhaps even remembered.
Every exhibition is an act of sharing, and every preparation is a quiet offering.
As I continue on this path, I remain grateful for each opportunity, each viewer, and each connection made through art.
Thank you for walking with me.