About Silent Sunsets

It is not every day a giant dog shows up on your doorstep needing a home—especially on your birthday. The only thing we knew about this big dog when he appeared was that he had been wandering the Arizona desert for days before landing at our house. One woman even told us she had seen him sitting alone on a mountain, watching the sunset. She tried to reach him, but he ran off into the darkness.

We were not looking for another dog. Our little chihuahua of 13 years had just passed, and our hearts were still heavy with grief. Three days before this big dog arrived, my daughter asked if we would ever have another. “Not right now,” I told her. “I’ll be traveling the country with my new book, and taking some time.” She reminded me of our family rule: “Except if one shows up on our doorstep with a tiny suitcase.” I laughed, thinking the odds of that happening were next to none.

But on the morning of my birthday, March 18, 2022, I heard it—one single, deep WOOF. When I opened the door, there he was: a giant pitbull, standing as if he had chosen us. At first, I assumed he belonged to someone else. After weeks of searching for his owner, talking with shelters, and facing the possibility that he might not be given another chance, I promised myself I would find him the perfect home.

He wasn’t chipped, neutered, or leash-trained—he was a bit wild but soulful and sweet. I took him to the vet to prepare him for adoption. All the while, my daughter insisted he needed a proper name. I resisted, convinced he was not ours, but she named him “Theodore.” One day, sitting in silence, I finally looked up the meaning of his name: “Divine gift.” On my birthday morning, I realized he truly was meant to be my gift. Theodore was home.

From then on, my paintings were born from Theodore’s quiet fascination with sunsets. Every evening, he sits and watches in stillness until the very last glow fades from the sky. If we sit with him and talk, he moves away—sunsets, for him, are sacred, silent moments. I often post them live in silence on social media. People have enjoyed taking the time to breathe and take a break to watch the Arizona sunset with Theodore. (In silence of course!) The woman who once saw him watching the sun on a mountain revealed to us his beginning, and he continues to show us the gift of silence at day’s end.

That is how the Silent Sunset Collection began

Each piece I create is an invitation to pause, to rest in the hush between light and dark where time feels suspended. My awe of Theodore’s devotion to the fading light—his quiet companionship with the horizon—reminds me that beauty is not always loud. Often, it whispers.

My work is less about the literal landscape and more about the emotional one we all carry inside. Silent sunsets remind us that beauty doesn’t ask to be heard—it simply exists, quietly, profoundly.