My studio is the old taproom in an 1830s brick house in rural Vermont.

But my favorite studio is under the sky where I get started on most of my paintings. My brother gave me an old plein air easel and it accompanies me around the back roads and hillsides near my home. I spend the winter months finishing my summer work, and creating dreamscapes that are composites of the places I’ve been fortunate to go. I work in acrylics, watercolors, ink and textiles.

I look forward to a day when the studio can be a social place again. If you are in Vermont and want to come view work in my studio gallery, give a call or email. We can plan for Covid safety ahead of your visit so we all feel comfortable. 

Look for studio workshops in the future.

I work with ink,
paper, and paint.

A Plein air painter when the weather allows.
A seamstress and up-cycler of new and found textiles.
A thrift store regular (they know my name).

JOIN ME

Upcoming Events

On Walker Hill © Sue Schlabach

Reception, Art Show at First Branch Coffee

Come by for Art, coffee and beer. All the good things! I have nine paintings hanging at First Branch Coffee and Upper Pass Beer from February 26 until April 30.

I’ll be there for a reception on March 26. Come by and enjoy the delicious offerings and say hi.

I love this mighty little Vermont business. My daughter was a barista there and it is my go-to place for beans to brew at home, or a smooth delicious espresso beverage.

From my journal

The Dirtiest Cleanest Hands

The Dirtiest Cleanest Hands

Everywhere I dig—and I am digging at every chance I get these days—I am finding something buried. And that could be a metaphor for all of us in these days of stay at home orders and isolation. What's deep inside is sustaining each of us, I'd wager. If we...

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A Sky Like Spring

A Sky Like Spring

This morning there was a shift in the light in the sky. The weekend was bitterly cold with that pink or pale icy blue tinge in the ether. Today there was a warm hint of yellow in the sky blue and the hills glowed differently. The 28 degree F air felt balmy...

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Remember Sparks

Remember Sparks

Remember that night back in September? But as the moon rose, like a lantern above the farthest hill,we got goose bumps and huddled under the blanket, which was damp. The fiddles played. And guitars and cello. Voices rose up in the night.Clothing caught the...

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