I suffer from severe temporal optimism.

(Also, I’m delusionally late. But here’s art!)

I'm late.
Not just "stuck at a red light" late, but delusionally late.

I suffer from severe temporal optimism. I genuinely believe it takes four minutes to get fancy for a night out, twenty minutes to drive across town in rush hour, and "an hour, tops" to pack an entire suitcase for a five-day trip.

(Spoiler: It takes me twelve hours, requires sitting on the zipper, and ends with me blaming traffic for delays I had already mentally factored in while staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror).

My latest delusion? "I can totally block-in this massive painting in one morning."
Sure. If "morning" lasted approximately 36 hours.

Once the brush hits the canvas, all earthly physics leave the building. Hours vanish into thin air. To keep myself from literally dehydrating into a pile of linen smock, I keep an egg timer on my palette set to screech every 40 minutes. It's supposed to mean: Step back, put down the weapon, drink some water. (Or wine. Look, hydration is a spectrum).

Instead, what actually happens?

DING!

The timer screams. The dogs jump out of their skin, glaring at me with desperate, soulful eyes, convinced that this sharp metal noise finally means I’m going to share the little sticks with hair on them that I’ve been hoarding.

Alas, no.

I hit the timer, mutter, "Just touching up this one tiny tree, it'll take two seconds," and immediately black out for another two hours.

This total inability to grasp how clocks work produces a to-do list so bloated and unrealistic it borders on science fiction:

Vet appointment
Exercise
Paint masterpiece
Enter prestigious show
Write newsletter

Naturally, this email sat stranded at the bottom of that list while September and October evaporated behind me.

And now, suddenly, it's November.

The month where we're all supposed to pause, get aggressively stuffed on carbs, and count our blessings. So, before my internal clock convinces me it's already New Year's Eve: I am deeply, genuinely thankful for you.

(Even if it took me an entire season to tell you.)

Here is a peek of what did make it off the list and into the world.

In this newsletter:

Museum of Western Art: An incredible opening reception.
In Print: My recent features in Western Art Collector and American Art Collector.
What I'm Working on Now: Paintings for the Museum of Western Art for the next Roundup. Lots of little studies to figure out paintings before I ever try to block them in. Because, let's face it, the morning never does last all day.

Enjoy!

Museum of Western Art

This show in the spring brought together a wonderful collection of Western art, and it was such a privilege to have my landscapes included in a prestigious juried venue. I had a wonderful time at the Roundup cocktail preview party! I really enjoyed my conversations with other artists, and with Darrell Beauchamp, the Museum's Executive Director. Many thanks to the Museum of Western Art for putting together such a great event.

In Print: Canyons & Deserts: The Glamorous Unknown

I am incredibly honored to be featured in the June 2026 publication of Western Art Collector. The article, "Canyons & Deserts: The Glamorous Unknown," written by Michael Clawson, explores landscapes of the American Southwest.

Here's the excerpt:

Artist Barbara Coleman strives to create visual poetry when painting images like Ancient Echoes, a canyon piece revealing the colorful layers of strata.

"I love to paint plein air to get ideas, color studies and source references. I take all this information, plus my memories and feelings about a place, and start coming up with ideas for compositions in the studio. I explore a variety of formats and ideas for placement and size of the elements of the painting. It is thrilling to make blobs of paint come alive, evoking the emotions I feel and expressing the soul of a place."

Read the full article on my website:

Read the full excerpt

In Print: Sublime Nature

I am also thrilled to share I'm featured in the September 2026 publication of American Art Collector. "Sublime Nature," written by Alyssa M. Tidwell, explores the history of contemporary landscape paintings.

Liz Ahrens, executive director of American Impressionist Society, says: "Ask yourself, 'do I see the artist’s intention in this landscape painting?' A dramatic vista may have been the inspiration yet the quiet moments within the painting should keep you in front of it—not just a quick look and then moving on to another image. Shadow, movement of light, the atmospheric conditions and subtle palette of nature should pull the viewer into an image. Landscapes encourage us to slow down whether you are in a gallery or driving down a country road. Paintings can refresh a memory of place, mood and environment."

Paintings by American Impressionist Society members Rusty Jones, Barbara Coleman and Jane Anne G. Woodhead were on view at Mockingbird Gallery in Bend, Oregon, at the AIS 27th Annual National Juried Exhibition from September 4 to October 3.