Art made in Isolation

Claudette and Bird

During this time of mandatory stay at home, I had time to finally finish this drawing. This work is mixed media of oils, markers, gel pens, color pencils, gold leaf and charcoal. What have you finished or started during this mandate to stay inside? Would love to hear.

Hugs from afar, -Diana

Reminicing to the Marshes in Connecticut

Streaks from airplanes long passed caressed the sky as we made our way through the marshes in Connecticut. An escape so greatly needed before ushering the New Year.

The town of Old Saybrook was quaint, we had arrived just as dawn had approached and all the streetlights were decorated in red bows and Christmas lights, it felt like something out of a Hallmark movie, and it made my heart feel warm.

We drove to an inlet where stalks of reeds had been cut down, the air was cold and made our throats ache as we inhaled, my dog wandering happily as he left paw prints in the mud. Lights from the homes across the way peeked through the tall grass as though they were fireflies, and it felt like life had stood still.

He pulled the Opinel knife from his pocket and cut a reed that was hanging on its last limb and waved it across the sky and when it got too cold to bare we jumped back into the Jeep and drove to the lighthouse. We passed homes nestled on the water, and played Sam Phillips as the stars came out of hiding and it was beautiful.

We grabbed a coffee back in town and the chalkboard said Billy owed them a dollar, and the young girls from the nearby high school brought the old lady behind the counter some chocolate, and as much as I loved the city this made me want to move to a town where people knew my name and you felt held in an old friends embrace.

I guess I’ll always have Old Saybrook for that.


It’s been two years since I took the time to sit and revisit this place. There is so much that has changed and so much has remained the same.

The things that have changed? Well I moved to New York City, from the dusty desert streets of New Mexico, I graduated college and cut my hair.

The things that have stayed the same? My overwhelming sense of anxiety, and my short frame.

Life has changed me. I feel older now, not wiser, but older in the sense that I just want to sit and stare at scenery. I have strived so long for all the work I have pursued in journalism, fighting everyday to be seen in this industry and somewhere around there I have begun to wish for tranquility and stability not found in dollar signs or bylines, but in the comforts of a place to call home surrounded by the trees and water that sustain us.

New York is its own continent. Filled with so many people, nuanced spaces. A constant wave, that smooths you over and over and over until you are just a part of the grain it has ground for so many years. A grain added to its shore of conquests.

There are days I simply wish to sit in my apartment cocooned from the pain and the humanity outside of my doorstep. Other days I want to bask in it like its my own sea, sitting at the base of Wall Street watching people live this life that’s rush and go.

But how privileged is this? To sit here in my sanctuary not having to worry about much.

I guess I’m just restless, trying to find meaning and happiness outside of jobs, status and consumerism.

But we were made for more than this right?

God only knows we were made for so much more.

5th Annual Steampunk Spectacular

In a rustic roadside saloon in the sleepy town of Madrid, science fiction and steam-powered machinery aficionados gathered for the 5th Annual Steampunk Spectacular. The event was hosted at The Mine Shaft Tavern where individuals enjoyed beer, music and food. The event attracted individuals from all around New Mexico and featured events such as, a murder mystery, parasol dueling demos, fire shows and scavenger hunt. This year’s theme was “The Emerald City.” Participants were encouraged, but not limited to, dressing up as Wizard of Oz characters with a steampunk twist.

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Heidi’s Raspberry U-Pick Farm

Tucked away between the Rio Grande River and the Corrales Community Farms lies a small patch of raspberry heaven. Heidi’s Raspberry U-Pick farm was started by Heidi Eleftheriou in 2001. Since then, visitors from all over New Mexico come to pick in-season raspberries from the many patches at the farm. Families can be seen laughing and peeking through vines along the lush raspberry corridors.

Approximately 500 visitors come through the farm during the peak season, Eliftheriou said. For only $6 dollars a pint, fresh raspberries can belong to any passerby.


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Cafe Istanbul

It all started with one shelf of spices and Middle Eastern goods. The need for Middle Eastern products in Albuquerque is what inspired the Aggad family to open Cafe Istanbul. Originally from Palestine, the Aggad’s moved to Columbus, Ohio before making their way to Albuquerque. Since the market’s opening, Cafe Istanbul has been an important part of the community. Customers have shown tremendous support to the Aggad family by bringing them flowers, thank you cards and hugs. “It’s really a blessing,” cafe owner Itadel Aggad said. “We are really blessed to know that people come and they care. We share stories, we share laughs, we share hugs in hard times like Trump’s (election). People would come and say ‘Can I have a hug?’ It means the world. Anytime you communicate with people, it’s the best feeling…and it makes you feel good that they are happy.”


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Tea Breaks & Clay Days

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We ventured to another time, where people were one with the clay. Entering the classroom was to know that nothing else would exist for seven hours. Just you, your hands and mind wrestling with the clay.

The struggle was real, and it was beautiful.

We made tea when our hands could no longer understand the signals from our weary minds and when the body was too exhausted from spiraling, wedging and throwing the clay.

We’d sit outside on the wooden benches drinking slowly and breathing even slower to try and attempt it once again.

Here we all were, each with a quiet fight all our own.

I grew frustrated.

I cursed at the clay in my mind and thought, ” how do my hands and mind keep missing one another?” Like star crossed lovers never to kiss. So close, yet so far.

And she told us of Japan. Artist in residence for three months, when all she thought every morning as she cast her sheets aside, gazing out to the grey shackled rooftops-“No, I’m not home I’m still in Japan. Way too early to begin to craft something so fragile. So earthly.”

And we all marveled at her stories, and her wisdom. She breathed art, and Arita porcelain and spoke wonders of the ceramist who taught her everything she knew. Now here we all were attempting the very same craft that takes two years to master in Japan. Naively attempting to do it all in just two weeks.

I felt broken each morning.

Not wanting to get up. The silica had taken its toll on my back, hands, fingers and forearms.

“Not again.” I thought. But the beauty in the struggle was too wonderful. I had to beat it. I had to make something. I had to keep creating. Fighting to do at least something. Anything. My hands grew desperate. Only finding solace in her words…

“Art is a process not only a thing.”

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And thats the crux of it isn’t it? As artists in the Western world we are defined by the number of pieces we create. By a finished product.

Yet, here was something so pure, so true, so innocent setting me free.

“Art is a process not only a thing.”

There’s beauty in learning. There’s beauty in the struggle. Growth as artists only happens as you learn new things. Taking different snippets of the various arts there are and mixing them all together to become an entity,  an aura all your own.

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Yes, I was impatient. But I learned not only from the clay but from the many talented colleagues around me. Colleagues that taught me patiently different aspects of creating, so patiently as I was on the verge of tears.

We humbly made tea for one another, and fed one another.  Each afternoon we’d all take a break and listen to each others stories and our instructors oracles of Japan. Of the grey roof tops, the beauty of community, China on the Park and breakdowns at Narita airport.

We sipped our tea, immersed in the clay on our shoes. Growing more as artists-if I dare call myself one-and cheering one another on, even when our pieces were warping into other worldly things.

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My hands will not be the same after this class, my muscles, my creative process, my mind.

There’s an honesty, an immersion that happens when you all are in one same creative spirit.

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Go out and DO. Do something that you wouldn’t typically do. Because its only stagnant things that die. I may be far from pleased with my finished pieces, but this time it wasn’t about the outcome it was about the process.


All my love,

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Sophia Turns 1!

My niece turned 1! And I finally got around to editing my favorite takes! Isn’t she a cutie patootie! Am so blessed to watch her grow, and learn so much everyday. And it’s so wonderful to see all the love she brings not only to my brother and my sister in law but to my mother and father. They are smitten, and all I can say there’s nothing like grandparent’s love. So enjoy pictures of the cutest baby in the whole wide world! She had a very Minnie birthday party!



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Boyd Boys

Stumbled upon old photos from my time being a nanny in Australia. I miss these boys and family so much. I remember spending weekends with them. Their mom would make us breakfast in the morning, and we’d talk about God and life. We’d set clothes out to dry on the clothesline in the springtime while the smell of Jasmine sifted through the Aussie air. The floorboards would creek with charm and so much love from all the love it experienced within its four walls. The sun would stream in through the kitchen windows basking the house in a warm afternoon glow. We would make Earl Grey tea with milk and it was serenity, love in its purest form, and goodness of people that are now oceans and memories away. I will never forget them, and will carry them in my heart ever so fondly. Miss you Boyd family. Sending you love. Wherever you may be now.