May News
Drawing Connections
Truth be told, I procrastinated for years before finally committing to send out a regular newsletter last month, so, you can imagine my surprise when I realized, in those first moments after hitting 'send,' that I had just inadvertently created a structure for my studio practice – an unforeseen way to become regularly accountable to my drawing and writing practices and even prioritizing exploring new landscapes. Hmm. The thing I had felt so unsure about has transformed into something that can help me prioritize what I really want to be doing myself and my time. Well, I’ll be damned. I hope you all will find something here that feels useful or generative for you and what you love.
This new monthly practice has also helped me to get back on the path of following a larger vision to build a deep and diverse collection of drawings depicting the animals, plants and insects. I imagine this as a library of sorts, where each species adds another facet to the visual vocabulary for the stories I am compelled to tell – stories that explore the genuine connections I witness and learn about, as well as the imagined relationships that arise through play and ideation. Each drawing represents and individual form of life and my plan is that through reproduction processes like the printing of archival prints on paper or wall decal fabric that I can work with my own imagery to create intricate and immersive works of art that bring to life both real and imagined narratives of connection.
It is all too easy to get thrown off track so I am very grateful to have this new form of sharing my work that provides a way to measure and share progress overtime. Over the next several months I will be organizing the drawings and stories of the species I have already drawn.
New work in progress: White Tailed Deer, Colored Pencil and Pastel on Plywood Panel
I often have experiences with animals and sometimes plants that feel significant. Sometimes these encounters feel like gifts of beauty, sometimes like messages or signals and I feel an obligation to honor them. Drawing is for me a profoundly beautiful way to spend time with and get to know my subjects. In the first days after sending out April's newsletter, I felt an opening, a reason to begin and started looking for images to work from. The white-tailed doe has been on the my need to draw list for some time now. I found a beautiful reference photo by Thomas Park on Unsplash. The initial drawing began with a gestural sketch to lay out the whole figure. I video recorded the intial hours of the drawing process that followed and posted a small sample on my News and Events page. I began writing the story of the encounters that led to this drawing in September 2023…
I have passed the still lifeless form of a deer on the side of the highway too many times while driving back and forth between my mother’s home, the hospital where she is recovering after a fall and the assisted-living facility I am in the process of moving her into. It’s always disturbing to me to see the bodies of animals strewn about or worse on the roadside. It seems so unfair that we’ve taken over so much of the land with roads that interfere so significantly with the movement of other species. The deer’s body was a difficult reminder of the tragedy of these consequences and triggered the grief I’ve been holding as I manage the obligation of caring for my mother since she was diagnosed with dementia in late 2019. For the last several days I’ve been going through my mother’s belongings deciding how to furnish her room. Yesterday as I was loading another car full of her furniture to continue setting up the space that will be her new home, a fawn jumped the neighboring fence and ran through the land immediately surrounding the house. I didn’t see, couldn’t locate the mother if she was there. Later, as I was driving the car loaded, I noticed a pair of female deer that were trying to cross a very busy stretch of a two lane road from a narrow wooded corridor . I stopped for them, but they turned and ran back into the trees. Looking into the rearview mirror, I saw them attempting to cross again, hesitate and return to the woods. I had to pull over and turn around. I felt I had to help them if I could. As I was headed back towards them they made another attempt. I slowed and stopped, halting traffic behind me, waving my left arm out of the window and flashing my headlights to try and get the oncoming traffic to stop as well, hoping to create an opportunity for the two to cross safely. The oncoming traffic did not slow enough and they turned away again. I slowly started moving forward again and pulled over just beyond the wooded area to wait. I needed to see them cross. I sat watching for a few minutes until the traffic paused and one of the deer came out to test the crossing. She cautiously pawed at the road, bent down her head, seeming to smell its surface, raised her head again and turned to glance back at her counterpart. They moved together to wearily cross the pavement and made it safely across, disappearing into the opposite tree line. The two of them were for me a representation of the two of us, my mother and I. I am the doe guiding the way, testing the road as I try to lead her to safety.
This small experience of feeling compelled to do something, then stopping and at least trying to do something is a microcosm of the persistent need I feel to witness and understand the vulnerable beings around us. My work revolves around this need and I am trying to learn how best to take action. For now, I am continuing to draw as well as make my way through the book I mentioned finding last month, “Crossings, How Road Ecology is Shaping the Future of Our Planet” by Ben Goldfarb. So far it’s fascinating and informative, relaying poignant stories about the origin of road ecology and all the human efforts that have gone into trying to create safe passage for animals almost since the very first roads were constructed.
