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Creating outside of the studio is a challenge in general as it imposes limitations on size and materials. However, when preparing for my first backpacking trip knowing I wanted to create on the trail was even more of a challenge. My Fiance Tom and I planned to hike part of the Appalachian Trail with our dog Sansa. We had done a lot of hiking and camping but never backpacking - we were excited for the adventure!
I knew that keeping the weight of my art-making supplies down was going to be key, so I ended up having to make a lot of sacrifices in that regard. I later learned while on the trail, that the simple supplies I brought were just enough and something I looked forward to doing at the end of a 12 mile day - along with my Top Ramen of course.
As an abstract painter, I take my thoughts and emotions and use the materials at hand to translate into a visual representation. But on the trail, creating felt different. I was present and focused on taking care of my basic human needs. I didn’t care that I hadn’t showered and didn’t have makeup on. I didn’t stress about the future or the past. Instead of my emotions dictating my work, I noticed my surroundings influencing my work. My color choices were based the things I saw on the trail, especially the colors of all of the different types of moss. My line use was indicative of the terrain I hiked that day and my brushstrokes were fluid, calm.
In a way, this trip felt like a hiatus from my normally overactive brain - a welcome retreat.
Have you ever had an experience so amazing that you never want to forget? Something so joyful you want to stay in that moment forever. Or a time of that you wish never happened? An experience so painful, you wish you could stuff it in a box, under the bed and never see it again.
While this experience in my life is relatively insignificant, the lesson that resulted from it is something that continues to influence me to this day. I was about ten on a cross country trip with my family. My Grandmother had passed away and we were driving her grey Ford Taurus from New York to California. We were hiking in Yellowstone when we stopped to sit on a log for a snack. When we got back to hiking, I felt something sticky on my brand new orange, red and yellow striped leggings from The Gap my Grandmother had bought for me. Sticky, ooey, gooey sap. I must have asked my mother a million times if the sap would come out of my pants. I’m sure my Mom was exacerbated by my worry, but instead of getting frustrated with me she repeated some words she read from the Dhali Llama.
“If you can’t do anything about it in this moment to change it, then there’s no use worrying about it. And if you can do something about it, then there’s no reason to worry.”
Those words helped the worried little girl with dirty blonde hair, big rosey cheeks, and outfits that were always matching release the fear. And as a 30 year old woman, my mother’s words still guide me in times of worry - generally for events more serious than sap on my pants, but not always!
My life as an artist is continually influenced by my mother’s spiritual sense and pure wisdom.
About a year ago, I started this body of work called The Presence Project as a reminder and a practice for myself to stay in the present. Through the process of creating these intuitive and non-premeditated works of art, I began to think about the small moments that we experience in life. The moments we wish we could relive over and over again, the ones that seem insignificant, and the times that we want to forget.
I began working with these encapsulated organic shapes with different levels of complexity contained within them. I allow these “Encapsulations” to serve as a container for moments that inevitably pass. Had I been able to let go of the of the worry of getting sap on my pants when I was ten, I would have been able to enjoy the experience of hiking in Yellowstone more. Through the wisdom of my mother, I’m slowly learning and internalizing that all things change. Time moves and while we can’t hold on to any one moment, thing or person, we can control the way our mind deals with the turbulence of life.
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