Debra Darvick

enhance your now in word and image



Eye Candy

Oh, this sweet planter of pansies took my breath away.  Isn’t it gorgeous! I don’t remember where I saw it. Who paints an exterior wall orange?  Thankfully someone did and momentarily redefined the term wallflower.


photo credit: Debra Darvick

Ridge Trail

It’s taken me a while to drop the ghosts, grab some courage, and sign up for art classes at our local art school.  I took a few intro to drawing classes that left me frustrated and covered in black charcoal dust; a colored pencil workshop that was pleasant but not my metier; an intro to acrylics with a sweet dynamo of a teacher who encouraged each student with just the right mixture of compassion and instruction; then an experimental watercolor class that I adored; followed by a second intro to acrylics; a color theory class, a drawing class taught in such a way tht everything made sense and finally, the continuation into acrylics two.

I love everthing about it: the smoothness of mixing the paints, the mystery and surprise of combining hues, setting up my easel, washing my brushes, and even being leveled by frustration when brain, eyes, and fingers leave me frustrated and despondent over my ability to master anything. Our teacher is accessible, offers criticism in a no-nonsense way that never wounds, instructs us clearly. I’ve never felt even a whisper of judgment from her when I completely mess up.

This scene is a photo Martin took of a special overlook in Sedona.  When we first started spending winters there, nearly a decade ago, I’d rise with the sun and hike to a promontory that overlooked this scene.  From this place, a place that I called “my mountain,” I watched day after day as spring arrived.  Hawks flew overhead on the lookout for breakfast.  I was the only two-legged creature in sight and sang out my gratitude for being there.

This painting is a love song to those mornings and the peace I found watching the sun rise beyond my mountain.

(Ridge Trail, © Debra Darvick, 2022)


Hold the Bleach!

Clotheslines might have been a pain in the neck way back when, but I’ve always felt a sense of romance and lightheartedness about them.  To me they evoke warm summer days, light breezes and sheets scented with the aroma of cut grass and sunlight.

I’m taking an intro class in color theory. After painting our own samples of primary, secondary and tertiary colors on cardstock, the assignment was to create a color wheel using three separate shapes for each of the color groups. What better than shirts, pants and skirts? And what a great mix and match wardrobe!

My First Bird Photo

The last time I wrote about Ted Grussing, he had just taken me up in Mariah, his two seater motor-glider, for a ride of a lifetime.  That was more than two years ago. This past December we returned to Sedona for a visit.  Ted, always generous, always living his life to the fullest, invited us for a three-hour birding photo shoot on Lake Pleasant just north of Phoenix. Ted is out on Lake Pleasant at least once, if not twice, every week.  He knows every curve of the shore, every inlet and every kind of bird who makes Lake Watson a stopping place.

Martin got some great shots.  Ted, whose  lens brings birds so close you see the whites of their eyes, snapped some jaw-droppers. I nabbed my first blue heron.  It was a total thrill.  Didn’t top the plane ride in Mariah two years ago, but any outing with Ted is unforgettable.






 Eagle photo, above, courtesy of Ted Grussing
Heron photo, left, courtesy of Debra Darvick