About

Growing up in Washington, Pennsylvania, I was the child of a creator. My mother made everything by hand — Italian pasta sauce rich with meat and spice, Christmas wreaths crafted from pine cones she gathered herself, clothing sewn from shiny satin with careful appliqués. Watching her, I felt the pull of it. I wanted to make things too. Believing it would be hard to earn a living as an artist, I became a teacher instead — and brought art with me anyway. My students befriended crayons and paints, and their drawings became as important in my classroom as reading and mathematics.

My academic life reflected that conviction. I earned a BA in Education and Art from St. Mary’s of Notre Dame in 1974, a Master’s in the Process and Problems of Writing for Children from the University of Chicago in 1975, and certification in Art Therapy from The New School for Social Research in New York City in 1983. In 1986, it all came together in a Doctoral Dissertation on the importance of the arts in the lives of children.

In 1992 I married my husband, Jay, and moved to Napa Valley, California. In 1994 our son, Michael, was born. It was a full and meaningful season of life — and it was also the beginning of a deepening spiritual journey that would eventually lead me to earn two additional Master’s Degrees in Spirituality.

Then in 2018, I was stricken with a severe illness that kept me in bed for several months. During that time, a priest and dear friend came to visit. I recall his words as though he had just spoken them. He said, “You know, Judi, if you get well, you can create icons.”

Father William MacIlmoyl spoke with such quiet assurance that I could not resist. I began searching internationally for the finest icon teachers I could find — and I found them.

For years I worked with the founding instructors of the Prosopon School of Russian Iconography and Iconology: Vladislav, Dmitri, and Nikita Andreyev. I also explored Greek Byzantine art with George Kordis and Maria Panou, both masters of Writing the Light. These teachers guided me into the original methodologies of the ancient Byzantine masters — methodologies so enduring that thousands of their icons remain breathtakingly intact in museums throughout the world today.

Through intense study and persistent work, iconography has become my passion, my spiritual discipline, my contemplative practice, and my form of prayer. At times I have felt a deep healing occur while creating an icon. For this I am enormously grateful.

To me, there is a natural partnership between spirituality and sacred art. My devotion and connection to the Invisible manifests through my work — whether it is an icon of Mary holding her Son, Jesus, or St. Francis of Assisi, or the Holy Trinity. Each piece is an artistic expression of transcendent mystery.

Before beginning, I move into silence and pray: “Take my hands and let them be dedicated, Lord, to Thee; take my heart and let it move to the impulse of Thy Love.”

Then I prepare a drawing of an angel, a saint, or a Biblical scene, and transfer it onto a poplar or linden wood board layered with several coats of white gesso, sanded until smooth as glass. As I paint, I listen to Gregorian chant, quietly recite a psalm, or simply work in complete silence. I feel as though I am presenting the Word of God pictorially.

Each icon takes me between three and six months to complete. I mix my own paint using the same ancient Byzantine method iconographers employed centuries ago — separating the yolk of an egg from its albumen, adding two or three parts white wine, then blending in ground and powdered natural pigments as needed. Many thin layers are applied with a squirrel or sable hair brush, each one left to dry completely before the next is added. These layers slowly unlock a luminous energy — light emerging from shadow, a new form revealed as the icon moves toward wholeness. In those moments, I too am moved to a new place of compassion.

I am genuinely grateful that a priest’s quiet words of encouragement have grown into my most fulfilling work. I look forward to continuing to create icons that carry something holy into the world — touching the hearts, minds, and souls of all who receive them.