Above the doorway of Heather’s Sausalito studio, written in big, coarse letters, are the words, “Being Heather Wilcoxon” It was the first thing I noticed when I turned around and looked about to survey the room. I saw a lot of other things, of course— art on the walls (most of it is Heather’s, but some of it is not), family photos, keepsakes and memorabilia, wild marks from her oil... Read more»
