Anchor Art Space: My Residency / Part 8 ... Grand Finale!

Rainforest Curtain (Moss). 40" x 30".

Ink, nails, twine, and paper on board. 2013.

Two additional mixed media works rounded out the body of work I created at Anchor Art Space during my residency, and they were also inspired by my visit to the coastal Washington rainforest in Olympic National Park.

 Rainforest Curtain (Moss), detail.

The curtain has been a strong theme in my recent work, and these pieces are no different. Just about every surface in the rainforest is covered with moss — it carpets the ground and it drips and hangs from nearly every branch on every tree. The piece above is an ode to the beauty of the moss that I fell in love with there.

Rainforest Curtain (Roots). 40" x 30".

Ink, nails, twine, and paper on board. 2013.

Giant trees with big, fat trunks and huge root balls fill the rainforest. When the trees fall over their root balls often come out of the ground leaving big holes in the ground and walls of roots, dirt, and rocks that litter the forest floor. These places offer great hiding places for animals, and fertile soil for ferns and other brush to grow.

Rainforest Curtain (Roots), detail.

This piece is a love letter to the damp earth that sustains and feeds rainforest life. What an amazing experience!

Anchor Art Space: My Residency / Part 7 ... Grand Finale!

 Ocean & Sky. 

Ink on paper with twine and wood.

8' x 4'. 2013.

Also inspired by my trip to the Washington State coast, this curtain reveals an abstract view of the wide open spaces of sky and ocean — they blend together, allowing for an even more compelling sense of expansiveness. The horizontal strips imply, perhaps, a sense of a window, and the curtain enhances that sense of inside (confinement) and outside (freedom).

Washington winters are generally stereotyped as grey and colorless, but when I looked out over the “grey” landscape of sand, sea, and sky, I saw nothing but rich, albeit subtle, color. It is those subtleties of perception that make life so rich and meaningful.

  Ocean & Sky, detail.

The curtain is made of cotton twine that is tied into chain sennet ropes. Most people think these ropes are braids, but the knots are actually a series of loops. I chose to create the curtain from this particular type of knot because of its conceptual depth. The twine, in this configuration, is compressed to about 25% of its original length. When the last knot in the chain is released the entire chain unravels in a matter of seconds. This fits perfectly with my theme — exploring that knife-edge of time between two life chapters, between innocence and knowing, between those game-changing moments that allow us to see our situations from expanded points-of-view.

Ocean & Sky, detail.

Anchor Art Space: My Residency / Part 6 ... Grand Finale!

The wall of Squeeze & Release. 

Gallery view. 2013.

The work in the gallery space tells a story in a clockwise rotation. Starting with The Mantra Curtain in the window, I led the viewer next to a wood panel framed by knots.

Knot Frame (detail). 26" x 26". 

Twine on wood panel. 2013.

The knot, for me, is a strong symbol of the way in which my mind gets tangled up with many different thoughts simultaneously flying in all different directions. Our thoughts frame our experiences, and this work is a reminder of that.

Squeeze & Release. 6' x 2'. 

Burlap, cheesecloth, and twine. 2013.

This figurative piece represents the ways in which we hold tension in our bodies — in my case, the throat and neck. Our stresses can sometimes create illness in the body (see Your Body Speaks Your Mind by Deb Shapiro). After years and years of stuffing my emotions into my throat, I ended up with thyroid cancer. Now healthy, I am working to release my emotions in other ways.

The Waterfall — A Veil. Installation, 10' x 4'. 

Cheesecloth, twine, and wood. 2013.

Many of the pieces in this body of work are inspired by a trip to Washington State’s spectacular coastal rainforest. The symbol of a curtain was forefront in my mind during our trip, so I was able to see them everywhere — especially in a waterfall that cascaded over a cliff onto Third Beach in Olympic National Park.

The piece above cascades over the top of the wall and releases into a pool on the floor. . . perhaps symbolizing the freedom that comes from a sense of “going with the flow.”

The Waterfall, detail.

The Waterfall, detail.

Anchor Art Space: My Residency / Part 5 ... Grand Finale!

 The Mantra Curtain. Installation view. 8 x 8 feet.

I began my work at Anchor Art Space by initiating a curtain of knots in the window. It seems natural to start a series of work based on a curtain theme in the window, don’t you think?

The curtain, to me, represents the knife-edge of time between innocence and knowing. That pivot point — the unveiling of information — can create great havoc and/or great peace in our lives.

 The Mantra Curtain. Knots detail. 8 x 8 feet.

This curtain took about three weeks to complete. I came into the gallery each day and made it a ritual to spend an hour or two tying knots in the window. The physical act of tying the knots became a kind-of mantra practice, a meditation, that allowed my many thoughts to become quiet inside my head. These meditations gave me space to imagine other projects I wanted to create during my stay.

I’m in the process of editing a video depicting my meditation practice — tying all those knots. Please stay tuned for updates; I’ll post the movie soon!

Anchor Art Space: My Residency / Part 4

I learn the most from the things that don’t go the way I plan.

For a while now I’ve had an idea to work with dyes in my twine work, so I decided that my time at Anchor Art Space is as good as any to begin my experiments.

I wanted to create a curtain of twine that hangs into jars of dye, and then allow the dye to wick up the material as time passes. I’m sure anyone familiar with fabrics and dyes probably already knows that cotton needs lots of heat in order for the dye to transfer well. I did not know that at first, but I do now!

The dye did, indeed, wick up the twine — to a point. It dried out far sooner than I had hoped, and it seemed both out of proportion and a mismatch for the curtain I already created.

I learned a lot working on this experiment over the past few days, so I don’t consider the time wasted. I do recognize the need to keep experimenting, perhaps with different twine materials as well as different ways to apply the color. I love learning new things!

Anchor Art Space: My Residency / Part 3

I’ve got six pieces underway (I think) at Anchor Art Space at this point. Now it's just going to be a matter of finishing them all within the next 18 days!

Above are chain sennit ropes I’ve been creating. There will be 22 of them in all, and they will form a curtain that will reveal a mixed media collage on the wall when opened.

 

Above is a semi-circular skeleton for a kind-of veil-style curtain. Below you can see it beginning to come together. It reminds me a little bit of a waterfall, like one we saw on a beach in Olympic National Park last week.

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.

Urban Posters for 8 Limbs Yoga

 The poster, on a light pole in the 

Capitol Hill neighborhood of Seattle.

Lately, I’ve been doing some work for 8 Limbs Yoga Centers, with four yoga studios in Seattle. The 8 Limbs, 8 Reasons campaign has been a lot of fun to work on; it’s unique and eye-catching!

 

 The poster, as designed.

I wanted to create something simple, with giant, bold typography that will grab attention in every format.

An advertisement for The Stranger, 

an alternative newspaper in Seattle.

Here, I mixed up the color palette a bit for different media, while keeping the same basic composition and style for brand recognition.

CoCA Art Marathon

 

Last weekend, I participated with 19 other artists, in an Art Marathon hosted by Center on Contemporary Art Seattle (CoCA). We worked around the clock for 24 full hours, and immediately after we finished there was an auction to raise money for CoCA. All four pieces I created during the marathon were sold!

The energy in the gallery was inspiring! Tons of visitors came through to talk to us while we worked. It was both energizing and unsettling having strangers standing around watching me.

I was so delirious from not sleeping that I completely forgot to photograph a couple of the pieces I made!

“Harvest Moon!” at CoCA Ballard

 Flynn Bickley. Home, the Right to Oblivion.

Last night, I went to CoCA Ballard (Center on Contemporary Art) for a reception for a new show called “Harvest Moon!” My friend Flynn Bickley, who I met through Artist Trust’s EDGE Program, had several pieces in the exhibition.

 Flynn Bickley. Home, the Great Provider.

Flynn’s work is an intricate meditation on the idea of Home (or house): it's joys and it’s frustrations. Each painting is done on tar paper, left over from construction — a remnant of what one person might consider a joyful project, but what someone else might associate with annoyance.

 Jody Joldersma. Battle at Deer Creek.

Another artist represented in this show was Jody Joldersma. Her work is unsettling — a collection of nightmarish scenes.

 Jody Joldersma. Battle at Deer Creek.

She also creates a variety of creepy sculptures like this rat popping out of a mailbox like a jack-in-the-box. I’ve always had a fear of opening a mailbox and finding something like this inside! No matter how humanity tries to separate itself from Nature, we are always eventually reminded of its power over us.