My good friend Ray Mancke, founder of the Back Mountain Railroad Club who is featured in this month’s cover story, stopped by my studio one cold winter morning last year to chat. After some small talk about the Club and local history, Ray asked, “Would you be willing to paint a picture of a trolley to help raise some funds for the restoration of what we think is the last trolley in the entire Wilkes-Barre Railway System?”  Loving history like I do, I hesitated for less than h

You might label me a homebody because my idea of the perfect summer night is sitting on my porch watching fireflies rise out of the grass...

One of my favorite authors, Henry Beston, once spent a year on an outermost beach on Cape Cod. He wrote in The Outermost House , his...

One of my students recently walked past my desk where my newest watercolor still life painting lay flat. She paused. Then, reaching out...

Is it the facts of history? Is it the punch of pride? The core of communication? The emotion of memories? Its basic design? What exactly...

Spring comes quietly in the forest. Ice thaws. A bird calls tentatively. A bud pops. A sliver of green pushes up. The air is cool,...

Sun streamed through the windows as Ray, Ken, Wayne, and several others moved around the vast area. Members of the Back Mountain Railroad...

No, there are no castles InSide the Back Mountain . Nope. Nada. Not even one!  But there are a lot of castle dreams from our childhoods!...

Artists’ studios can be strange worlds, imaginative, full of intrigue. American artist Andrew Wyeth’s studio boasted armies of little...

In the American colonies, an event called an Illumination meant lighting the insides of public buildings and sometimes private ones with...

Ten years ago, November 2014, with much trepidation, I wrote my very first article for InSide the Back Mountain , in which I reflected on...

It all began one afternoon in the art studio as I attempted to explain my inspiration and fascination with the new series of paintings I...

Is there anyone else  InSide the Back Mountain  who remembers that “back in the day,” usually in the elementary grades, our very first...

While perusing Back Mountain Kitchen Treasures , a 1956 cookbook published by Reverend Yost’s Shavertown Methodist (not yet United)...

My parents, especially my mom, taught me to love picnics! Before I was of school age, on the first warm day of spring Mom would exclaim,...

Before American art became a force in the world of painting, subjects tended to be portraits, history, mythology, or architecture. It was...

My mom loved flowers! The rural yard of my childhood InSide the Back Mountain in Franklin Township was never a showplace garden, but it...

I always wanted to be an artist. I experienced my very first art lesson at age 11. I sat in a large room originally used as the front...

“Look at that sunset!” I yelled and took off running down Jackson Street in Cape May, New Jersey in my much younger days! My daughter...

“The fog comes on little cat feet…” wrote American poet Carl Sandburg. Fog can silently envelope a landscape. It can shroud it in...