I love welcoming in the annual winter solstice. The return of the light is such a big turning point for me. It is the darkest quietest day of the year, a small death at the end of a long season of birth, growth and harvest. It is a time to reflect and give thanks. It is a time of rest.
The Thanksgiving celebration, and my year end studio clean-up and sale begins the wind down. After putting all of my paints and tools away for the sale, it has been interesting to me to see what kind of work I would do after the sale. It turns out that the closure gave me an opportunity for experimentation and trying out ideas that have been simmering for a while. It has been helpful for my creative process to stir things up and open myself to new possibilities. I am looking forward to passing the long quiet days of winter in my studio. It is a good time for reflective and serious work. I am ready.
I've included some images of my neat and clean studio, all ready for the sale.
Thursday, December 11, 2014
Friday, November 28, 2014
More on wilderness....
Most of the wildernesses I have experienced are not endless expanses, but small patches within our larger civilized lands. I can only imagine what it must have felt like to the native peoples, explorers, and pioneers. The mysterious, frightening, even mystical wilderness. One can come close to it in the vastness of Alaska perhaps, if you are lucky enough to be able to get into the bush.
What makes wilderness wild is the edge of fear and wonder. The unease of not being in control.I just finished reading Barry Lopez's Arctic Dreams. He writes that the arctic peoples have a word for that edge. It is "quamaneq": The shaman light to see in the dark, joy and violence together, the edge of the primitive. How wondrous it is to experience wilderness in all its glory, its fierce and dangerous beauty. There is no sentimentality there, and to survive in the wild one must proceed carefully.
I have tried to put the sort of quamaneq I am talking about into my recent paintings. The people in them are merely visitors. They seek something rare that can only be found in a wild landscape. Something that is missing from their lives.
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
Cityscapes: The City As I See It
I am pleased to announce that She Waits juried into the new show at The Gallery At The Watershed in Eugene, Oregon. I am looking forward to checking out the exhibit Friday night at the artists' reception.

"The City As I See It" opened on November 4th and runs through December 13th.
321 Mill St. Ste. 6, Eugene, OR 97401
541.844.1668
"The City As I See It" opened on November 4th and runs through December 13th.
The Artists' Opening Reception coincides with
November's First Friday Art Walk:
Friday, Nov. 7, 5:30-8:00 p.m.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Thursday, August 14, 2014
Wilderness 50: Artist's Statement
In thinking
about this show, I wanted to explore how we modern Americans deeply need and
celebrate our wilderness environments. Particularly, I am curious about the
possibilities and resources that these protected areas provide for us as a
species within an ecosystem. I chose
trees to provide the structure and focus for this series. Most wildernesses
have trees, and I wanted to look at how untouched trees have adapted in
different climate zones creating the complex mature ecosystem possible in a
wilderness. I also wanted to see how
humans adapt to those climates and how they may possibly interact with a
specific wilderness.
I became attracted
to the metaphor of “cambium”, a
tree layer between the inner bark and the wood, which produces
new bark on the outside and new wood on the inside of trunks, stems, and roots originating
all growth and forming the annual rings of wood. Like trees, human learning and
growth occurs on both the outside and the inside simultaneously, the bark and
rings becoming a sort of memory of experience.
In the painting Cambium:
Wet, I worked with winter dormant bigleaf maples and red alders found in
the Rock Creek Wilderness rain forest near the Oregon coast. I show the cutthroat trout solely
found in the pristine streams that flow into the ocean from the Pacific
Northwest coast range.
Another winter piece, Cambium: Dry has water sensitive black cottonwood from Central
Oregon high desert where development is a huge challenge in the fragile desert ecosystem.
My summer piece is Lost In Time. This
enormous old Douglas-fir is located in the Rougue Umpqua Divide wilderness and
is covered with old man’s beard moss.
Wilderness 50: The Retreat
In June I hiked into the Boulder Creek Wilderness with three of the artists who will be showing with me in the Wilderness 50 show. We were focused on the burned over forest and examining the regeneration that has occurred since the wildfires of 1996 and 2008. We found much to be glad about. Among the standing charred trees were many many young trees. Native wildflowers were varied and abundant, and the extravantly white and lavender blooming ceanothus were a shoulder high cloud in the black stemmed understory. The forest was very much alive and thriving.
Sunday, May 18, 2014
The Cambium Layer
cambium
cam·bi·um
a layer of delicate meristematic tissue between the inner bark or phloem and the wood or xylem, which produces new phloem on the outside and new xylem on the inside in stems, roots, etc., originating all secondary growth in plants and forming the annual rings of wood.
The vascular cambium forms tissues that carry water and nutrients throughout the plant. On its outer surface, the vascular cambium forms new layers of phloem, and on its inner surface, new layers of xylem. The growth of these new tissues causes the diameter of the stem to increase.
*
I am working on paintings for the upcoming Legacy of A Promise show responding to the 50th anniversary of the Wilderness Act, and I find myself exploring trees. I feel such different energy than when I work with birds. I feel the bottoms of my feet firmly anchored, attached to roots that descend into the deep substructure of the earth. Time is slow and sustained, as if I am reaching back through hundreds, even thousands of years. I feel weight, stubborn power and impenetrable wildness.
Trees are time travelers and witnesses. With their stems that grow and remain through dormancy, they pierce into the future from the past. They house and support multitudes of organisms, including humans. As they grow, simultaneously from without and within, they clean the atmosphere and utilize the complex detritus left behind in the forest. The ancient trees, especially those found in the primary forests, are an enormous mystery. Yet when I am with them I feel safe, as if I am on hallowed ground..
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