Events!

Artist’s Statement:

I am a native Californian. When I first moved to this area, I was confounded by winter. Storm windows? Snow boots? Long underwear? Huge jackets with bulky mittens? Every time I left the house I felt like a marshmallow. My imagination couldn’t wrap itself around why anyone would continue living here. Then, in my fifth year, a friend introduced me to cross country skiing. Suddenly this strange cold world opened up to me, and I fell in love.

In winter, everything is changed. Contradictions abound. The volume of the world turns towards silence, making sound paradoxically sharper. Snow hitting a coat might sound like tiny crackles of lightning. Footsteps can be crunchy or slippery or a pillowy softness that belies the aerobic workout it takes to walk up the smallest incline. The earth is white, while light takes on a luminescence of blue. Snow drifts can look like sand dunes, wind in branches can be waves crashing on a beach. Trees bare themselves and turn inward, a reminder of death even as they prepare for spring life.

I find myself drawn to the details – the soft dance of shadows on snow, leaves encased in ice, the intricate swirls and crevices of icicles, the evidence of tiny footprints, the myriad delicacies of frozen water, the harshness of ice crystals.

For me, winter is about slowing down, quieting my heart and observing closely. I see beauty everywhere I look.

Special thanks to Ed Green, whose kindness and generosity rescued me when my printer died. Thanks Ed – I’ll pass it on!