Painting isn’t just about stepping up to the easel. It’s about living a life that is filled with inspiration, about creating the space to ruminate and consider and to pursue what fills me.
I set out walking. There is no other way of putting it. I walked and walked, taking in this new place I called home. It was a need, a sort of walking meditation, that soothed something deep inside me.
Apparent or not, these pieces were all born of the land. They illustrate a period of intense soul searching and growth that could only take place in the embrace of this place I had come to trust.
There was also a small herd of horses pastured on the four acres in front of my house. They were rather skittish at first but, slowly, we got to know each other. Then, in the middle of what could only be called a blizzard, a little one was born. I saw her with her mama just after the sun came up. This wasn’t good.
… when a local artist accused me of painting wallpaper, I had my first glimpse of raising the bar. Welcome to New Mexico kid! The home of the big boys and truly exceptional art.
… it was with some incredible hubris, if not utter disrespect, that I’d made these plans. I knew nothing about Truchas–its rich and complicated history, its heritage, its people, its simple AGE (the village was founded in 1754).
A birthing that necessitated pain, as all birth does, was taking place and I was in it. I was coming into ME. And my paintings reflected all of it–the growth, the pain and the confusion.