inspiration comes to me in many forms. an inner or outer landscape, a poem that confirms or shifts my perspective, resonant words, symbols and energy deeply felt. wherever the muse appears, the use of natural dyes, earth minerals and textiles to create art is a joy making process for me. while sewing is my first love, with collage work, i find great freedom to experiment with shapes and sizes that sewing does not readily allow and a floodgate of new possibilities open up. i love both processes, clean closed seams and raw cut exposed edges, both metaphors for life… switching back and forth stimulates my creative center ever more. the earth mineral collages are made using earth minerals pigments that i blend individually to make custom colors in a base of plant acrylic. i paint multiple layers of mixed colors on flax linen or organic cotton fabrics. once dried, the shapes are hand cut and collaged on wooden panels using natural adhesives. a coat of plant based varnish is applied to the finished work and framed, ready to hang.

language of trees

earth mineral plant acrylic painted organic cotton & linen collaged on wood panel

14.5 x 14.5 (flush mount framed in maple wood)

Lying there among the trees, despite a learned wariness towards anthropomorphism, I find it hard not to imagine these arboreal relations in terms of tenderness, generosity and even love: the respectful distance of their shy crowns, the kissing branches that have pleached with one another, the unseen connections forged by root and hyphae between seemingly distant trees. I remember something Louis de Bernières has written about a relationship that endured into old age: “we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.” As someone lucky to live in a long love, I recognize that gradual growing-towards and subterranean intertwining; the things that do not need to be said between us, the unspoken communication which can sometimes tilt troublingly towards silence, and the sharing of both happiness and pain. I think of good love as something that roots, not rots, over time, and of the hyphae that are weaving through the ground below me, reaching out through the soil in search of mergings. Theirs, too, seems to me then a version of love’s work.

passage from Underland: A Deep Time Journey by Robert Macfarlane

note: please hang away from direct exposure to harsh light (natural/artificial) as well as direct heat source and areas of high moisture