OLD GROWTH FOREST

As a young girl in the Midwest, I was in awe of and inspired by the magnificence of walking among the tall pines.

The quietness of the forest floor calmed me. I felt connected to the earth and nurtured while among them.

It saddens me to think that America’s natural forests are no longer filled with trees up to 400 feet tall that were 500 to over 2,000 years old. Today, just 4-7% (approximately 40 million acres) of original old growth forests remain in the United States. Extinction of species is occurring faster than at any time in human history and forest’s ability to store atmospheric carbon is significantly stunted. It is my hope that this work will urge people to consider the presence of processed trees in their daily lives. It is important to reduce our paper usage and learn to rely on sustainable wood products. I am still humbled whenever I have the privileged encounter with an old growth soul. For me, trees are sacred.

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KINDRED ASPEN

A stand or group of Aspen trees is a singular organism with its main life force underground. Saplings are birthed from the root system of the mother tree. When mature they continue the process creating generations of DNA replicas of the mother with the roots never letting go of one another. The oldest known Aspen clone lives in Utah’s Fishlake National Forest. It is more than 80,000 years old, older than the massive Sequoias or the biblical Bristlecone. The intriguing phenomenon of the Aspen reminds me of our human condition, the evolutionary need to belong to a group, a clan that we can rely on for respite and protection. In a larger sense, this work represents interconnectedness of all living things.

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Native Plants

This work was inspired by the rugged, yet elegant, landscape that was once abundant with Grass Thorn and the spectacular evening skies found in Tucson, Arizona. The focal point is “Nolinas microcarpa” known by Indigenous Americans as “Saccahuist” or Grass Thorn. It was once common in the South West but is now listed as a protected plant. The Pima, world renown for their basket making, still rely upon this plant as they seek to keep this artisan skill alive within their culture. I was deeply moved by the story of one such young Pima woman who must go door to door in residential neighborhoods searching for this sacred plant which is, by many she encounters, considered a weed.

This work is set in the hills of Santa Barbara where the Chumash seek to reestablish their community. The focal point, “Juncas Textillis”, once common along the southern California coast and foothills is now on the protective plant list. The Indigenous Chumash rely upon this plant to make the frames of their exquisite cradle boards and for essential basket making. Partnerships with local landowners for permission to cultivate and harvest Juncas have been difficult to secure. There are far to few.

Sahuarita is a small community nestled between Tucson and the thriving art community of Tubac in Arizona. There are thousands of acres of land managed by the state and federal governments where a person can meander for miles on trails, perhaps blaze cross country through the desert grass and cacti in the blazing sun, or seek a bit of shade under a mesquite tree found along the many washes where the quail, wild boar, and cougars travel. Though Ocotillo are not nearly as abundant here as they are elsewhere in the desert, they can still be seen doting the landscape especially along the edges of the washes where they can optimize the 14 inches or annual rainfall. Ocotillo do not follow a seasonal bloom pattern. Instead, they will burst out in their vibrant hues of red following the rain and they will do this multiple times per year.

This work was inspired by the gentle pink and golden hues of the fresh morning while walking in the desert and the rouge Ocotillo I encounter while scouring the often deep and rocky washes in the wild of Sahuarita.

“Arundinaria gigantean” (giant cane) grows to 30’ Once widespread on the extensive floodplains of the South Eastern United States, and now rarely found growing naturally, was relied upon by many tribes of Indigenous Americans for essential basket making, home construction, and many other survival uses.

ENDLESS PRAIRE

I have made many trips across the vast plains of the U.S. and I often ponder the journey of the pioneers. My heart also aches for what was once bountiful grasslands but now are acres and acres of mono crop fields. On this particular trip, there were sunflowers as far as the eye could see. Hybrids that we have programmed to grow with their heads down to minimize the theft of their seeds by birds. This Google fact occupies some time while clicking off the miles in the luxury of our truck and “comforts of home” camper combo, but my spirit soon migrates back to the perseverance of the pioneers in the face of grueling hardship as they made their way west. It is difficult to know exactly how many people died while making their journey. Conservative estimates state that there were 10 marked graves for every one mile along the 2,170 mile long Oregon Trail alone. Add to those untold thousands of undefinable graves and the number is staggering. It can be easy to view these numbers as mere statistics, but much harder to feel their pain. Every single number represents a human soul, someone who was loved. Death was a constant companion for all who traveled west together. This work was inspired by that devastating loss and in particular the emotional hardship that women endured. Was it the loss of her mother, a sister, her dear friend, a husband, or the unspeakable, her child? These warrior women walked, one foot in front of the other, for mile after mile after mile, shattered by grief, yet clinging to hope.

COSMIC SKY

There is a place in New Mexico called the "Cosmic Campground". It is one of only 14 certified International Dark Sky Sanctuaries in the world. The land here possesses an exceptional and distinguished quality of starry nights. I find it disheartening to think that this type of magnificent star gazing is no longer abundantly possible due to the vast affliction of light pollution on this planet. The people who gather here abide by unique rules prohibiting that pollution. They come from all walks of life and geographical locations for that magical experience of gazing into the depth of the universe. By day, this part of the Gila National Forest rewards you with plunging rocky slope vistas and open meadows with flowers swaying gently in the breeze. There are no utilities and no cell service. The number of concrete pads to set up your telescope far out number the handful of campsites. This work was inspired by my time there.

There is a majestic summation that hundreds of birch trees equate to when they stand shoulder to shoulder swaying gently in breeze. Though the bark of the Paper birch or young River birch is a visual feast no matter the season, it is in their golden glory of Autumn that they evoke in me a certain reverence. One that beckons me to savor the moment, to just sit and be. There are more than 60 different species of birch trees, each with their own unique colors, textures and characteristics, but only a few varieties have the bright white peeling bark that we are familiar with here in Midwest. Birch were one of the first trees that flourished on the barren ground left in the wake of the receded glaciers. European white birch, is considered invasive in the states of Kentucky, Maryland, Washington, and Wisconsin, as well as parts of Canada. Birch are considered a pioneer species and will quickly establish themselves in an area that has been disturbed or suffered erosion. Ironic, isn’t it, that often the very areas where they have taken over, doing what nature intended them to do, to provide shade and nutrients for the climax species saplings, are areas that man himself has originally altered.

In my own green space that I call home, I am caretaker of several Paper birch who resided on the property prior to my involvement. I have since given them neighbors in the way of three clusters of River birch. How about you, do you have a relationship with a birch tree?

Starry Nights in Sahuarita **SOLD** prints are available

Sahuarita is a small community nestled between Tucson and the thriving art community of Tubac in Arizona. There are thousands of acres of land managed by the state and federal governments where a person can meander for miles on trails, perhaps blaze cross country through the desert grass and cacti in the blazing sun, or seek a bit of shade under a mesquite tree found along the many washes where the quail, wild boar, and cougars travel. There are few homes beyond the hinterlands of town and this makes for a beautiful dance of starlight against the backdrop of a Mars black sky. When the heat of the day dissipates you can bundle up and gaze up if you’re so inclined. This work was inspired by the unique desert landscape and those glorious night skies near Sahuarita. I treasured my time there and considered it a privilege to commune with the universe in the quiet of the night.

POLLINATORS

The Rusty Patched bumblebee (Bombus affinis), once prevalent in Minnesota, is now Federally listed as critically endangered. Their rapid decline is linked to disease spread by commercial honeybees and lack of proper habitat. Decline in habitat produces dietary stress and reduces resiliency to pathogens and pesticides. It is rareto see one now, but I have childhood memories of the unique rusty patch. I remember the low and mellow vibrato, their slow and methodical movements and how I felt an air of calm in their presence. This work was inspired by those memories and early observations.

According to The Bee Conservancy bees pollinate 1 in every 3 bites of food you eat. Of the 4,000 native bee species in North America, half are in decline and 1 in 4 are listed as endangered. Though honeybees are responsible for 80% of all fruit & vegetable pollination, it is the bumblebee that is actually the better pollinator. The bumblebee is also better at cross pollination, for which many fruit trees are dependent and it is the only bee that will pollinate tomatoes.

Did you know that 70% of the native bee population live a solitary life or commune only on a very small scale? The majority of bees dig shallow holes, utilize existing rodent burrows, or find a suitable small plant stalk or cavity of some sort for their nurseries.

What can you do? If you have a lawn or grow flowers or a garden, consider leaving small patches of bare ground or sand in areas that do not flood for digging bees to use as nesting areas. Bumblebees, in particular, need access to undisturbed ground, rodent holes, and vegetation debris. Use shredded leaves or compost instead of mulch which suffocates bees. Leave your plant and flower stalks at 12-15” for solitary bees to winter over or lay their eggs. Wait until late May or early June to remove the stalks. Lastly, all bees need abundant and diverse flowers from spring to fall, so fill in any bloom gaps you have in your gardens.

“Bee” a citizen scientist and report your sightings to www.bumblebeewatch.org

This work was inspired by a paper wasp nest given to meby a very good friend who knows of my love and fascination of all things natural. I love to make paper out of all kinds of unexpected plants, so why not make a new version of paper pulp from that of the nest of the “paper” wasp. I didn’t have a plan, I just let it evolve from the basic structure of hanging pulp on a honeycomb like grid. As is often the case, the meaning behind what I’m doing presents itself some time down the timeline of creation. Years ago, we lost a very old and very large white pine to a wind storm. This was due to the fact that honey bees had taken up residence in a high up cavity. We enlisted the help of an elderly man who was a longtime bee keeper from nearby Chengwatana Forest to retrieve and save the bees. This hive was the largest he had ever seen or heard of, upwards of 250,000 honey bees by his estimation. The honeycomb was five feet long and thick, astounding. Some of the most docile honeybees he’d seen in a long time. He could not absorb them into his hives, so they were to be sent to the Agricultural Department of Iowa. He vacuumed up as many as he could with his special bee vacuum, being certain to have captured their queen explaining that many of the stragglers would follow her pheromone since he lived just 4 miles away. What will happen to those that stay I asked, will they rebuild? Well, he said, “it’s a good thing you found me straight away because the outlook for them is not so good. Wasps will move in and kill them all within 24-36 hours, so you see, we saved the hive.” I grieved the loss of that hive and what it meant for our surrounding woods and farms.

CHROMOSOME CIRCUS

This work is a juxtaposition between the crazy chaotic world that women find themselves in when they pursue career building while trying to raise a family. The cultural inequality issues that exist often feed the delay to conceive children until well into their third decade. This decision poses a very real and increased risk of issues with fertility, among them chromosomal damage. Current policies regarding medical insurance, family leave, and daycare do not currently support the emotional or financial health of the family unit. Why does our culture continue to put women in a position where they must choose between a career or motherhood?