Salvaje (Wild)

Acrylic Painting: 36” x 24”

Not For Sale

As I traipsed across the Flying Horse Ranch, I encountered various bands of horses roaming freely within assorted massive pastures. They would look my way, then return to grazing. Some curious horses would approach me with lowered heads and relaxed ears, eager for a scratch under the chin. However, there was one bay who stood out from the rest. As I approached him and his band from a sizable distance, this trail horse raced out in front to meet me, head tossing, nostrils flaring, ready to protect his little band if I were a threat. In that moment, I felt like he reached out and squeezed my heart.

Like this horse, there is a wildness in me I can’t contain. It’s difficult to capture in words, so I shan’t even try. Suffice to say, some people think it is inspiring; others find it unnerving and unacceptable. I would love to say I have encountered far more people who celebrate my inner wildness, rather than those who try to exterminate or regulate it, but that is simply not true. If I am honest, that truth was a source of pain for many years. I longed to be a bit more tame and conventional so I would encounter more acceptance and understanding. Oddly enough, healing came through painting, not through the acceptance and understanding of others.

Salvaje (Wild) celebrates every wild heart. I painted it for the trail horse that sometimes still acts like a band stallion, for myself as wild speaks to wild, and for every person who moves for the sheer joy of it, who envisions more than the eye can see, who explores simply because the mountain is there, who dances to music that others can’t hear, and whose hearts and souls do not conform to this world. Stay wild.

Glory

Acrylic: 40" x 60"

Commission Piece: SOLD

"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge." (Psalm 19:1-2)

I knew my client loved certain sci-fi books and any movie of epic grandeur. Thus, I based this piece upon Psalm 19:1-2 and my own epic twist.

A Girl's Best Friend

Charcoal: 18" x 24"

Commission Piece | SOLD

Anyone who has ever had a four-legged best friend knows their price is more than diamonds.

Hope for Uganda

Pencil: 14.75" x 9.5"

Commission Piece | SOLD

Christian Medical Missionary work inspired this pencil drawing, Hope For Uganda. This little boy's eyes speak of a pain and knowledge one so young should not have, yet hovering on his lips is a hopeful smile for the help, hope and future Christian missionaries brought on a medical missions trip in his area.

After the Rain

Acrylic: 17.5" x 23" | Framed:21" x 27.75" x 1.75"

Inspired by two of my obsessions: water droplets and the mystery of how the human eye interprets color. While every water droplet is like its own masterpiece, full of light and color, the color of the poppy creates a mystery. Though the flower appears red to our eyes, to accurately create the different planes of light, much of what appears to be red in the poppy is actually painted with greens and violets.

Alpine Afterglow

Acrylic: 10" x 20"

SOLD

Sunset afterglows occur after the sun has fully set. Low-frequency light scatters across clouds and then reflects onto the surrounding landscape, creating nuances of color. Artists are often entranced by afterglows, and I’m no exception.

In my experience, afterglows can vary based on where you are and the atmospheric conditions—from brilliant crimson hues in the desert, to the vibrant oranges of the plains in the Midwestern US. I love all these, but none hold my heart like an alpine afterglow. As the sun sets, bold vermilions and deep periwinkles fill the sky, slowly turning to the softest of hues in the minutes afterwards. Just when you think it can’t get any more beautiful, the water and mountains take on an ethereal beauty of their own as the last light fades from the sky.

No matter where I am or what I’m doing in Colorado, I never grow tired of witnessing this phenomenon. I’ll drop whatever I’m doing just to pause and take in those precious moments—whether it’s pulling to the side of the road, standing on my deck, or ditching my friends and family during my own birthday celebration. It didn’t even phase them when I bolted from the party to take in this particular view one late summer evening in Frisco, Colorado. Some of the best presents don’t come with wrapping paper and bows!

Love Connection

Pencil: 16" x 20"

Commission Piece | SOLD

This hyper-realistic pencil portrait captures that developmental moment when an infant begins to discover her world, including looking into the eyes of her beloved daddy.

Fire River I

Acrylic 16" x 20" | Framed: 21 3/8" x 25 3/8"

When I was a youth, my dad was invited to be the guest speaker at a retreat in the Colorado Rocky Mountains for a week. Lucky for me, he got to bring the whole family with him. The director of the camp learned from my parents that I had a healthy dose of Wanderlust, so he sat me down and gave me two ground rules for my time there on the mountain:

1. I must always stick to the trails and not leave the worn mountain paths.

2. Don’t drink from the stream down-river of the horses. (VERY sound advice!)

Other than that, I was a free kid. I spent my days exploring the mountain paths that followed the river around camp, and my evenings playing foosball with my twin brother and the adult guests. As far as I was concerned, this was my slice of heaven. That trip was the first time I ever encountered the perfection of crystal clear, rushing mountain waters that reflect the purest of blues. It was also when I knew that I would someday call Colorado “home”.

If all you know as a child are the murky waters of the midwest, clear mountain rivers are a revelation. Perspective is everything—up close, clear waters reveal worn river rock and the occasional darting fish. Further out, reflected skies create every kind of jewel-toned blue and green imaginable in the rushing currents and eddies. As the waters pass from mountain forests to more open areas, orange, red and gold reeds rise from the banks, reflecting like streaks of fire in the snow-fed waters…and the SOUND!!!! Rocky Mountain rivers make music that is entirely their own, unlike any other body of water I have ever heard. Unlike so much of my work, Fire River I isn’t the result of one single view. It is the culmination of four decades of my deep love and awe for mountain waters, combined into one spectacular painting.

Autumn Joy

Acrylic 14" x 18" | Framed: 29 7/8" x 24" x 1 3/8"

A lot of people love Spring because it represents new beginnings and life, plus it means summer is on the way. However, I believe every season has its beauty. This is true in the mountains, and true in our lives. Some seasons are easier than others (like climbing a 14er in the predawn of summer instead of winter!), yet there is purpose and beauty in every season, if we will look for it. I titled this piece, Autumn Joy, because there is something about the sights and smells of the mountains in the fall that lift my spirits and fill me with an indescribable joy at the gift of life, even when life is hard.

The mountains always bring me renewal, restoration, and joy, but especially in the Autumn when the leaves blaze with color beyond imagination, the wind whispers of the hope and excitement of changing seasons, and the mountain-tops are kissed with the first hints of winter. I hope that wherever you are, when you view this painting, you can hear the sounds of the wind carrying the sweet smells of Autumn, feel your spirit lifted, and find joy in your current season of life.

Intensidad

Pencil: 14.75" x 9.5"

Commission Piece | SOLD

I loved the intensity and "imperfection" of this model--a bit sweaty for the photo shoot, features that aren't perfectly symmetrical, freckles, and skin that didn't look airbrushed. To me, that made her perfectly beautiful!

I Choose Hope

Acrylic: 10"x20" | Framed: 12.5" x22.5" x2 5/16"

It is said that with every sunrise and morning, God’s mercies are new, giving us a reason to have hope each day. In 2020, 213 mornings had come and gone, streaming rays of sunlight into my room each morning, but that light and hope never seemed to reach my heart. It had been a hard year for me long before the global pandemic. As the year unfolded, it seemed the world became more hopeless each day, fraught with a merciless virus, and increasing division and hate.

One day I was hiking before dawn for a nocturnal photoshoot. Afterwards, I was trekking back when the sun broke over the horizon. I felt something within me whisper, “Choose hope.” As the sun turned the wild grasses into drops of gold, I set aside the state of the world and my anxieties as I watched a darkened landscape transform into sun-kissed waving wheat and rose-colored mesas.

I call this painting, I Choose Hope, because each morning will indeed give me the gift of a new sunrise, despite the burdens of our broken world. However, what I do with that gift is my choice. It is not easy to choose hope amidst the tempests of a global pandemic, economic crises, hatred, disunity, and personal storms. It's far easier to close the curtains of my heart to try and ease the onslaught of a despairing world, but in doing so I shut out the light, not just the dark. That's not who I want to be, so I choose perseverance, knowing hardship strengthens character. I choose to paint because art has the power to transform. I choose hope because there's still beauty and goodness in the world. I Choose Hope invites viewers to open wide the curtains to their hearts and choose hope in their own lives.

African Queen

Acrylic: 14" x 11" | Framed: 18" x 15"

My inspiration for this painting is a female African elephant named Kayla. What struck me most about her is her expressiveness and her intense love of mud baths! As she rambled around her extensive habitat, I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to encounter her in the African heat of the Savannah as she emerged from the dust. I sought to capture that moment when the dust began to clear to reveal her in all her magnificence.

Kintsugi in the San Juans

Acrylic: 8" x 10" | Framed

Kintsugi is an ancient Japanese art form that seeks to create beauty from the brokenness of an item. Gold lacquer is used to mend the pieces together, incorporating the damage as a part of its history and beauty, rather than seeking to hide the scars. The San Juan mountains remind me of this art form—the jagged face of the rocks is their prominent feature, scarred by eons of weathering. However, when golden light hits the scars and jagged face of these mountains, their beauty is unrivaled by the smoother perfection of the Maroon Bells, Pikes Peak, or other iconic American Mountains.

Kintsugi in the San Juans is for all those who struggle with the impact of trauma in their lives, the scarring and brokenness it leaves in its wake. PTSD changes the way we experience the world—how our minds and bodies process information, and the constant struggle to control the inner chaos, to hide the damage in an attempt to function “normally”. I painted Kintsugi in the San Juans to remind myself and other trauma-overcomers that beauty and strength do not come from the unbroken life, but from a broken life that is being woven back together in the light and truth of God’s love and grace. Stop hiding; start shining—there is beauty in your scars.

Legacy

Charcoal: 18" x 24"

Commission Piece | SOLD

What makes us rich or poor in the currency of love and life is not so much about the money we have, but the time we possess and how we choose to spend that time. Some live many decades, never learning to spend wisely; thus, they live impoverished lives. Others live for only awhile, but love so well, they are rich men indeed.

Nathan Moore was one such man—he lived richly because he loved deeply; that is his legacy. This piece is titled Legacy to honor Nathan's life and the people he loved so well.

Kevin, thank you for entrusting your brother's memory to me.

The Testament

Acrylic: 11"x14"

SOLD

A common misconception of the Christian faith is that somehow, since God is for us, we will not suffer, despite scripture to the contrary. However, the greatness of God is not defined solely by His ability to keep us from pain and trial, but also His promise to bring us through the challenges of pain, catastrophe, and evil. He promises to never leave us, and to make beauty and a perfected Christ-like character in us out of our hardship and trials. (Deuteronomy 31:6; Psalm 37:23-25; Romans 5:3-5; Hebrews 2:10; Isaiah 61:1-3).

The twisted juniper tree is a living testament to these truths of God's character. Twisted junipers face environmental hardships of hurricane-force sheer winds, extreme drought, severe cold, and blizzards on an annual basis. To help combat these hardships, their root systems are capable of plunging up to thirty feet through the solid rock of cliffs, mesas, and mountainsides to find sustaining water. Thus, where other trees would die in such extreme conditions, scientists hypothesize the tenacious root systems and more flexible bark and twisted growth patterns allow the twisted juniper to persevere and triumph against such extreme trials, creating trees of unparalleled beauty and awe.

I was inspired to paint this twisted juniper simply because I want to be like this tree! I want to be a testament to God's sovereignty, goodness, and faithfulness, and to be the kind of person whose character triumphs over trials and hardship no matter the season. Looking up at this tree's twisting and patterned bark from a worm's eye view creates a beautiful interplay of value, color, and texture, while showcasing the magnificence of this 150-200-year-old tree.

Your Light Has Dawned

Acrylic: 24" x 36"

Not for Sale

“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned” (Isaiah 9:2)

2701 days ago, I came to the realization that there are some things in life I cannot do on my own. This realization didn’t come all at once. It started with a few people in my inner circle individually expressing their concern. The tipping point came while sitting with a dear friend in a deserted coffee shop one beautiful afternoon. She was very worried about my well-being, but I kept insisting I was fine as she pressed me further. Aren’t those the best kind of friends? The ones who know us so well, they aren’t put off by our walls, bullcrap, and denial? Gently, lovingly, she kept leaning in as I resolutely insisted I was fine. Finally, she said, “Lisa, if you’re fine, then why are you staring blankly out the window with silent tears streaming down your face?”

Truly, I felt nothing, save for the silent tears. What I didn’t know then was that I was suffering from trauma-related dissociation. I really don’t like using that word because the problem with using the word “trauma” is that people often maximize or minimize its presence and consequences. That’s exactly where I found myself 2701 days ago, as I sat before a mental health professional while she asked me pointed questions, seeking to know more about me and the circumstances that led me to reaching out. Finally, she stated, “You have had a lot of traumatic experiences in your life.” To which I bluntly responded, “No, I haven’t. Childhood soldiers experience trauma; I’ve just had some hard times.” I believed every word I said was true.

The enemy is cunning in how he uses lies and shame to keep us from the hope and healing we all need, no matter our stories. After all, Satan is the father of lies (John 8:44). Now I know better. In the years that followed, God helped me separate the truth from the lies to lead me back to life, starting with this:

LIE: What I experienced isn’t really that traumatic. (The “Suck it up, Buttercup” mentality.)

TRUTH: Trauma is trauma; the body responds to trauma whether I acknowledge it or not. Denying its existence will not keep trauma from taking its toll on my mind, body, emotions, my work, and my relationships. Symptoms will NOT get better by denying them; they will only escalate with time. Minimizing the experiences to dismiss them, or catastrophizing the trauma (believing it is too big to overcome) makes it impossible to heal.

That’s just one of many lies I had to overcome. More than a year after I met with the therapist, I was still waiting for the darkness to end and dawn to break in my life. It’s during that journey that I painted Your Light Has Dawned, a piece based upon a view from Navajo Point in the Grand Canyon. I went to Navajo Point well before dawn to watch the sun rise and whisper across the canyon walls. Much to my consternation, when dawn came, it never reached the inner canyon. With a 7,461 feet (2274 m) drop to the bottom of the canyon from Navajo Point, it’s no wonder the light couldn’t reach beyond the rim of the canyon walls. The shadows in front of me reflected how I felt: no matter how hard I tried to claw my way back to wholeness—to the “me” I used to be— I couldn’t.

When I returned to my studio, I refused to give up on this view. I began to paint what I first believed I would see in the canyon: darkness giving way to warm light and mesmerizing color in the predawn morning light. If you travel to Navajo Point to experience this for yourself, you will never find it. The view in Your Light Has Dawned doesn’t exist because, like life, nature isn’t always perfect. We live in a world of indescribable beauty and immense suffering, so our stories don’t always go the way we planned. It took me more than a year to paint Your Light Has Dawned, and many more years to make strides in healing. I won’t go into all the details of that journey because that’s not the point. The point is that Jesus knew in this fallen world, sooner or later in life we will find ourselves in a canyon of deep darkness waiting and waiting and waiting for a dawn that never seems to come.

Maybe that describes what you or someone you love is experiencing right now. God’s promise to you and to me is to bring light into our darkest times: “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned” (Isaiah 2:9). The crazy thing is during that season of my life, I felt like my greatest need was to find a way out of the darkness, to just get it over with already! In the end, God’s answer wasn’t to immediately take me out of the darkness and set me on the canyon rim to admire the view. Instead, His light found me where I was “living in the land of deep darkness”.

The story behind Your Light Has Dawned isn’t short or easy for me to share, but I’m writing it because overcoming trauma isn’t short or easy, either. I share the journey of Your Light Has Dawned because trauma can be very isolating, but that doesn't mean we journey alone—nor are we meant to. I humbly acknowledge it’s taken the help of skilled professionals and a handful of people in my inner circle to get to where I am today. I want to encourage you that no matter what you’ve experienced, God has not abandoned or forgotten you. Your life still has purpose and hope—not some day, but today. If I can use my paints to bring light to a canyon that had none, how much more will God restore light and life to you where you need it most? If the story behind Your Light Has Dawned resonates with you, I hope you give God the chance to heal and restore you. I have learned that you don’t have to always be strong enough, or resilient and brave, for that to happen. You just have to be willing.

Midnight Majesty

Acrylic: 11" x 14" | Framed: 13.75" x 16.75"

I am drawn to the wilderness at night and early morning. There is something so magical and majestic about these times of day; I feel like Creation reveals to me its awe in ways I would miss by the bright of day. However, nocturnal excursions in the backcountry bring their own set of safety and logistical challenges. On this particular trip, Studio Puppy proved her worth.

Like all nocturnal paintings, I first scoped out the area by daylight to avoid potential dangers like false trails and falling off of cliffs or mountainsides (occupational hazard!). I also use these “dry runs” to

finalize my artistic ideas. This particular location features dozens and dozens of crisscrossing trails in a dry riverbed, with little to no landmarks to differentiate them. When I returned that night, I had completely underestimated the sheer level of darkness with a moonless sky in a canyon, even with a powerful headlamp! It was so dark, I just aimed my camera in the general direction of what I wanted to capture and hoped for the best.

After the photoshoot, when I prepared to go back, my headlamp was

insufficient to help me navigate the myriad of crisscrossing trails in the inky darkness. As I stood there considering setting up camp for the night (I always carry full gear for life’s little surprises), Studio Puppy went to one of the trails and started confidently trotting along it, looking back at me expectantly. I’d worked with her tracking objects and people before, but I had never considered that she would use those skills to help us back-track to safety. I followed Studio Puppy, and she unerringly took us back to the trailhead. After that experience, I now use offline mapping tools to ensure my safety.

Despite that technology, after every photoshoot, Studio Puppy always backtracks and leads us safely home—no GPS required.

The Hunter

Acrylic: 11" X 14"

SOLD

I love the red rocks of the Rocky Mountains--their color, designs, and sheer artistry never cease to amaze me, as do the creatures who call it home.

Daddy's Joy

Pencil: 16" x 8"

Commission Piece | SOLD

Though I always prefer to do my own photography for my art references, sometimes clients have a particular photo that, though poor in quality, is of special sentimental value. At such times, I enjoy using my skill to create a high-quality portrait to honor those memories. To honor the sentiment of the reference photo, I drew the portrait to look like an aged photograph placed on aged paper, complete with the vintage white frame.

The Commissioning

Acrylic: 28.5" x 39.9"

SOLD

The Commissioning of Isaiah explores the concept of forgiveness--how, in a heartbeat, our wrongs, our shame, our epic fails--are all wiped away when a contrite heart comes before God. Even more mind-boggling is the freedom that comes not just for the Forgiven, but for the Forgiver, too. I have found that when I extend forgiveness (even to those who don’t acknowledge the pain they’ve caused), my willingness to forgive them is directly related to the amount of freedom and healing I experience.

In Isaiah 6, when Isaiah saw the face of God, he figured he was a dead man; instead, he found forgiveness and a passionate calling for his life’s mission. I wanted to capture that moment when fear and hopelessness turned to awe and the receiving of unmerited grace and forgiveness—a gift that’s available for us all.

Moonlight Whisper

Acrylic: 36" x 24"

SOLD

"Be still and know that I am God... I will be exalted in all the earth." (Psalm 46:10)

On a frigid night climb (with appropriate gear!), I stood before Mills Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park as the moon rose over Longs Peak, Keyboard of the Winds, and Half Mountain. The cold moonlight whispered across the mountainside and lake, creating a holy silence that whispered the sovereignty of God.

Fire River II

Acrylic: 28.5" x 39.9" | Framed: 15.5" x 18>5"

As a kid (and still as an adult), I loved all things outdoors, so when the opportunity arose for 17-year-old me to try my hand at fishing with my uncle, I jumped at the chance. I did everything my uncle told me to as we fished from the banks…imagine my delight when I actually caught something! I landed the fish, and my uncle rightly insisted I be the one to take it off the hook. As I sought to corral the flopping critter, its fin caught my finger and drew blood. Now somewhere I had read that some fish could poison you if their fin pricked you. Naturally, my imagination ran wild with worst-case scenario outcomes from my dramatic sure-to-be-lethal first catch. I showed my uncle my hand, and shared with him my “knowledge”, to which he responded with a dramatic sigh. He shook his head sadly as he looked from me to his watch and replied, “Well, I guess you have about five minutes left to live.”

I’m still alive and kicking, but that was the first and last time I ever went fishing! Fire River II is for all the fishermen I’ve shared the wilderness with over the years. They are always friendly, with gems of local knowledge and suggestions for further explorations. This one’s for you!