Rain again

Waiting for the Rain to Stop, 2021, Archival Digital Print

I spent more time in the car waiting than I did caring for the flock.  The rain was in deluge mode for most of the day.  Like many artists I search for the unified field theory of what I see and feel as I work.  Why this not that?  Why here not there?  Why transmute it in this way and not that way?  An artist does nothing if not make thousands of decisions as she works.

 

The Coming Storm

Expecting Show, 2021,Archival Digital Print, 2021

Suffused with longing for spring and yet an almost gasping consciousness of the spare beauty of deep winter.

Ours is a long season, longer and more expanded by the pandemic and isolation.

Longer and more shocking as memories of the Insurrection vomit up

On the clean snow

As we wait for more.

 

 

 

 

Earth Day 2020, Planet of the Humans, and what’s wrong with us?

Perfection, 2020, Archival Digital Print

The new documentary is not for the fainthearted. Planet of the Humans is free on YouTube. See it at your own peril. You won’t get through it without being changed and sobered.  And very saddened. Don’t watch it alone.  You’ll need comfort after it’s over.

Now that I live on the land, I am more sensitive to the sacredness of the planet.  I expect if we continue our greedy consumption and yearning for more and more, we will just be killed off. Fairly quickly, too.  This may be only the first of more coming pandemics as we destroy swaths of forests and deserts and gobble up more and more for our energy needs.  In the big picture, humans just aren’t worth it.  We are too greedy, out of balance and let’s face it, too destructive.

 

 

 

So it’s Death

Hans Holbein, The Miser, The Dance of Death, Woodblock, 1523-5

Underneath all of our anxiety, our food and gun hoarding, is The Grim Reaper, his insistent trod, scythe in hand, plucking souls as he goes.  It’s what none of us say aloud: you or I could be next.  We have always known it was in our future, vague, general, but way, way out there in the future. Now our reckoning may be around the corner.  We aren’t worried about getting sick any more than we are about getting a cold.  We’re afraid we might die!  Dead.  Over. Gone.

One of my favorite little books I studied endlessly as an art student was Hans Holbein’s Dance of Death, a series of woodblock prints.  It is a marvel of drawing and composition illustrating Death’s harvest at every level of the social order.  No one is exempt.

I was so inspired I started my own series, the studies are lost somewhere in a pile of old sketchbooks.  Then I forgot about it until now.  Like all art, Holbein’s work remains timeless, waiting for us when we’re ready and scared to death.

9/11 again

Untitled Proof, 2019, Linocut on Newsprint, 12″ x 12″

It’s 9/11 today and the scorched memories return as always a few weeks before until they are fully formed on the anniversary of that awful morning and its aftermath.  I have been working on a linocut series all year but this weekend decided to take a rest from it and do some other plates which were more severe and geometric.  This one was the first.  It pleased me.  This morning, though, it looks to me like a memory of that day and those maimed towers.

 

The air has changed

Adolescent Turkeys, 2019, Archival Digital Print

The first whiff of Autumn came last week. Now in spite of the high temperatures and the violent thunderstorms and drenching rains on many nights, the summer’s end nudges at us.  Another sign is the young Turkeys who long ago fledged and are now long-necked and adolescent.  The flock is big.  Here are a few stragglers.  Their sibs already crossed the road and were safely hidden in the grasses.  These two had attitude and risked the on coming car.

 

Illumination

Field of Sunflowers, 2019, Archival Digital Print

On Saturday I saw thirty acres of Sunflowers just coming into bloom.  I was reminded of the moving scene in the film Everything Is Illuminated when the three travelers find their destination.  She is an old woman living in a small house surrounded by blooming sunflowers.  How radiant is our world if we can See.