Winter Holiday on the Olympic Peninsula

Third Beach at La Push, Washington

Last week, Matt and I took a few days to visit the Olympic Peninsula’s rainforests and beaches. We stayed about 20 minutes north of Forks, Washington (yes, of Twilight notoriety!) at the Cabins at Beaver Creek, on the banks of the Sol Duc River.

 

 The boardwalk trail (about 3 miles) through the rainforest to 

Cape Alava, the westernmost point in the lower 48 states.

We were pleased that it didn't rain the entire time we were there, although we did come prepared with all our rain gear and provisions! I was really inspired by the new and different color palettes in this environment. All the different greys, greens, and red-browns are simply stunning.

 Some of the ferns in the rainforest were as tall as me!

On Christmas Day, it was snowing 

at the “higher” elevations (800 feet!).

The sun peeked out for about an hour or so one afternoon. This old moss-covered bridge was near our cabin over Beaver Creek, near its confluence with the Sol Duc River. There was so much moss everywhere, it gave me some new ideas on things to make with my twine obsession!

Now, back to the studio at Anchor Art Space to keep making more art work!

Anchor Art Space: My Residency / Part 2

Here I am working in the window, above. This is nearly two days’ work. 

I somehow have a knack for taking on the most time-consuming projects!

I’ve been getting down to business on my first two projects at Anchor Art Space. The first one is a knot curtain that I’m making in the front window. Knots are really important to me right now; it seems like all my ideas somehow incorporate knots. I’m not interested really in complex or decorative knots, only simple ones.

In another departure for me, I’m working in (mostly) monochromatic palettes — natural cotton twine and wood. Despite the simplicity of the materials and the knots themselves, tying all of them becomes an almost obsessive meditation — almost like a mantra; a physical chant, in a way. The act of making them — and the result — being highly repetitive and textural.

Almost all of the projects I’m planning will feature knots, and several will be curtain-like in nature. These two symbols and the act of making them will hopefully bring a sense of peace and a kind-of stillness into the gallery environment.

Kala, my awesome studio dog, keeps me company. 

Her name means “fine art” in Sanskrit, and “sunshine” in Hawaiian.

Anchor Art Space: My Residency / Part 1

Yesterday was the start of my 5-week residency at Anchor Art Space in Anacortes, Washington. Anacortes is a small fishing town located at the north end of Fidalgo Island in the northern end of the Puget Sound. The gallery is a beautiful space, in an historic building erected in 1891, the same year the town was incorporated.

The space is welcoming and ripe for my creativity! I'm planning to explore the symbolic metaphor of the “curtain” during my time here. I’m interested in that knife-edge of time between innocence and knowing. There is also an element of healing that will take place here, I hope.

Yesterday, some friends and I held a Shamanic ritual ceremony here to cleanse, protect, seal, and bless the space in preparation for my work here. We all set intentions for what we hope will take place during my time in the gallery. I was overcome with emotion upon receiving the love and support of my friends.

This symbol on the floor is designed to attract and catch what I will need during the next few weeks: peace, time, healing, inspiration, motivation, and love.

I will keep this small altar in the space as a reminder of all the positive energy we created and the love that surrounds me!

Awesome Snow Hike in the Rogue River National Forest

On our way back to Seattle from Reno, Matt and I decided to spend a few days exploring the forests of southern Oregon. We hiked out from Fish Lake and up the Pacific Crest Trail for a bit in a beautiful winter wonderland.

Mojo likes to bring up the rear!

Click on this image for a better view of Mt. McLoughlin.

The sun started to come out just as we rounded the bend to see this spectacular view of Mount McLoughlin in the distance. You can see the mountain creating its own weather at the peak. This is a volcanic area, so there are lava fields everywhere. Some of the mountains have giant craters where the tops blew off thousands of years ago.

McKinley Arts Center: My Solo Show in Reno, Nevada

Matt and I drove from Seattle to Reno yesterday (13 hours!) so we could be on site at McKinley Arts Center for the installation of my solo show there. I have twelve of my favorite pieces in the show.

The show looks great and Kyle and Toni (my contact folks in the Public Arts Program for the City of Reno) have been so awesome to work with. Reno is a beautiful city, too, with the Truckee River flowing right through town and snow-topped mountains to the west.

Matt did the best he could to photograph the paintings in the space. The gallery is long and narrow and in a historic building, so there were some challenges. After trying to shoot photos in this space, I think I might have to break down and buy a lighting kit so we can get better images of my work in spaces like this.

One Summit: New Work & New Outlook

One Summit. Ink, nails, and twine on paper mounted on board. 

24"x36". 2012.

I finished this new painting a few weeks ago. It is special to me because it documents an important evolution in my overall philosophy on life. When my dad died in 2001, I made a promise that I would take any opportunity that presented itself, and I did just that. I was in my mid-20’s at the time, and I did not want to miss out on anything that life might generously offer.

And after eleven years of saying “yes” to everything that came my way, I ran myself ragged. I realized that I was running on an ever-faster treadmill, trying to experience everything but never fully experiencing anything deeply. I have been climbing a whole range of mountains leading to a bunch of different summits, but never actually getting anywhere.

I know this promise has served me well over the years. I’ve had a lot of amazing experiences like rock climbing, traveling, and meeting tons of amazing and different people. I've lived in four states since 2001, and worked full time while taking on every freelance opportunity, too. I took up yoga, and dove full-force into yoga trainings and teaching.

And then last year I was diagnosed with cancer. Another brush with death gave me an opportunity to re-examine my choices and promises to myself. I am cancer-free and healthy now, and I realize that after eleven years of running full speed ahead, it is time to slow down, pause, and say “yes” more fully to the things that really matter: my art, my community, my family. 

This painting, One Summit, is a reminder for me that I no longer have to do everything to be fulfilled in life, but that I can do fewer things and do them well, with more personal investment, and more mindfulness.