expressive Landscapes

This series of oil paintings is called “To Georgia.” I photographed these landscapes during a hike at Georgia O’Keeffe’s Ghost Ranch. I had been extremely focused on writing and illustrating, had just self-published my first novel and children’s book, and found the hike so inspirational. It felt like I was realigning myself with someone I wanted to emulate, so I named the series “To Georgia” to thank her for paving the way for female artists.  I am not even close to finishing the series. I have probably thirty works in total that I would love to make for this series, along with poetry, and put them all in a book dedicated to her, because I believe her spirit is still alive in the creative consciousness her work created.

“Classroom” is my favorite piece from this series so far. When I walked upon this fallen tree, its shadow had such a presence that I knew a photograph could not capture it, nor the clouds. The wind was so steady that day, and the clouds looked like gods in the sky that could just carry you away.

“Chapel” was the second painting I started. It was painted from a photograph taken beside the riverbank of our camping site. I wanted to choose a name that would convey how sacred and reverent the space felt, and to use brushstrokes that would show how softly the wind sounded through the trees.

When I took the photo for “Nest,” I knew it would be somewhat arduous to convey how the space felt. The rocks looked as if they were gathering to seek shelter under the cedar tree, whose trunk had the most beautiful lining.

I was excited to start painting “Wormhole.” The way that the shadow met the trunk of the branches in the horizon line looked like a crack in the sky that the universe you could pull you through.

When I came upon the site of “Ragbone,” it had a kind of freezing effect on me. The real tree was slightly more rigid, and I added branches because the air and energy were so light that things seemed as if they might come back to life, and all the broken limbs would start walking. The light on the outerlying branches reminded me of a veil, and I began taking pictures of all of the dead trees for a series I hope to call “Ragbone Wedding.”

I hesitated to paint “Precipice” because the perspective is uncomfortable, and then I decided to lean into it. The light on the cliff was so beautiful that I wanted to paint how warm it felt and how vast the horizon was, but I don’t think a painting or photograph can do the view justice.

Most of these singular paintings are the start of their own smaller series, “To Georgia.” Her ranch felt like coming home to my mother, who has always known me as an artist.