… 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.
… this is where I caught my first true glimpse of me. THIS is where the abstracts were born. But I wouldn’t fully understand it until this very moment as I write it out to you.
As most of you know, I didn’t paint for 26 years after college, where I was a painting and drawing major and a printmaking minor. What you may not know is that coming back to painting took a tremendous commitment and no small amount of effort.
I, personally, think his work is very contemporary, but it also stirs a sense of something rather “old” in me. Be it France at the turn of the century, or the Renaissance, his work embodies something deep and rich that resonates historic works, while still being every bit modern.
My life demands something of me: Not that I be fearless but that, if I am afraid, I face it. It asks me to stand in the self-doubt and the fear, to get comfortable there, to know I am human and this is part of it, to have compassion.
I know that being an artist doesn’t necessarily bring with it silence, certainly not for those working in large urban areas like NYC or Paris. But, for me, it was my art that brought me to New Mexico and New Mexico has delivered me to silence.