Portrait of a Journey
For more of my paintings on the web, please see The Art of Transformation
Polar Shift, pastel
In the beginning I didn’t know I was illustrating a journey, or that I would end up with a shift in perspective, realizing a new balance between inner and outer worlds. The following nine pictures in oil and watercolor are a representative sample of work done in the 1980s, which led eventually to the writing of my memoir. What began with portraits and self-portraits, expanded to looking at my interior life, showing myself what I knew or felt subconsciously. Yet though I could see I was painting a narrative, I didn’t know what the story was.
This portrait was one of my earliest works. Though not my intention at the time, it perfectly represents the idea of turning away from the external mirror to face oneself. The unfinished quality adds to the sense of one not fully developed until this look within, at the inner life.
Self-portrait, watercolor
I did this from a photograph I liked, because it showed me a side of myself I wanted to explore, give credence to.
Self-portrait, oil
Here I was looking in the mirror, seeing myself in the new role I had cast myself in. I had the long hair, the long earrings, the long Indian dress. My palette, all laid out with paint, is tilted towards the viewer, or in this case, the mirror. For now the mirror has become the Looking Glass, through which it is possible to see into the inner world.
Listening, watercolor
As a former actress it took time to get over the compulsion to see myself in the outer world. But I began to paint models listening to their intuition or dreams, and the culmination was this more impressionist version of what it felt like to be tuned in to the inner self. To hear a voice from within. To hear the soul calling.
Sinking, watercolor
This is indicative of my “drowning” pictures. They began by chance when a model didn’t show up for his next sitting and I finished it without him, covering the background with cerulean blue. The effect was startling; he looked as if he was sitting at the bottom of the sea. It was thrilling on some deep level, and inspired many more such paintings. Pictures I thought of at the time as a visual representation of delving into the subconscious.
Burning, 3 watercolors
I didn’t know where these next three paintings came from. They were part of a larger series of watercolors on paper 22″ x 30″ done over a short period in a feverish state of exhilaration. And then stashed away for twenty years until I completed the memoir and asked myself, what if…
What if my psyche was somehow recalling a past death? The memory of burning.
Of being on fire. Of falling into the sea?
Girl Underwater, oil
Deep in the sea life of dream life
Lies a merger with death again and again.
She was the end of the journey. She was what it was all for. Whether she was my lost childhood, my mute self, my lost soul, or the memory of something more incredible, reaching back into a past life, she now was “found.”
My inner voice told me I didn’t have to paint anymore, I’d done enough. It was time now to write about how I got here.
So she represents the end of one journey and the beginning of the next. I didn’t know why I had given her a sprig of leaves to hold in her hand. But later, I began to think of them as laurel leaves. Laurel, for victory. Even before I had any idea of what she might represent, I knew that for me, she was some kind of victory.










Hi Nancy,
Your self-portraits, and the way you connect them to important turning points in your life, is fascinating. I’ve always found self-portraits intriguing because they often represent ideas the artist many not yet be aware of. Sort of like the Self subtlety communicating with the self. Authentic art always call on the artist for an exceptional courage; one must be willing to remove the veils not only for the public, but more importantly for ourselves. We’re grateful to witness your unfolding in paint and the written and spoken word.
Warm love,
Lee & Steven
Thank you Lee and Steven. It is gratifying to hear. With drawing and painting the feelings expressed are more direct and honest, less filtered through the left-brain that wants to present a good appearance. It was a revelation for me to see how I saw myself in paint, so different from the smiling confident self in photographs! From the beginning paint has been like a truth serum, keeping me real.
And yes you are right about removing those veils. Exposing the inner being, the subtle realities, a world within just as vital and real as the one without — which gives it meaning.
With appreciation and love ~