MulticoloredPieces

Many centuries ago when I was an eight-year-old kid in Boise, Idaho, I went to Mrs. Hart’s house for afternoon art lessons. This lovely a...

It happened: blogland has bestowed its approval upon the improbable Province of MulticoloredPieces. I'd like to thank Carolynn a...

The cat photos that were published in "Winter Garden, Part 1" created unrest in the tranquil Province of MulticoloredPieces. Th...

The kitchen gets a lot of traffic. Few industrial or convenience foods appear on grocery shelves in Tunisia and if they exist, the pric...

The winter garden persists with cloudy, gray weather. To brighten things up, the coral bells (Mother-of-Millions succulent) have been...

It was destined for the rag bag, my worn out bathrobe—one of those pieces of clothing that get used and used and fit your body comfortabl...

During an exhibition of my art quilts, someone noted that I had different periods. Well, no. Rather, different strands of thought perva...