Below are some current and past projects. With each of these I hope to invite the viewer further into the natural world to examine our relationship to it.
Monotropa Uniflora
The Ghost Pipe is a highly medicinal plant, often used for helping with epilepsy and PTSD, and also helpful in times of transition or great loss; it is a healer. It is indeed a flower, though it lacks chlorophyll and instead draws its nutrients from the roots of trees and the fungi between them without starving either; it is a secret and determined survivor. It pushes its shoulders through the forest decay after the rains to stand strong with frail petals among the pines; it is a proud and humble warrior. I began my attempts at capturing the Ghost Pipe years ago, focusing on its frail translucence and pale glow. I have used all mediums available to me (linocut, painting, chainstitch embroidery) to portray its visionary essence. When I was diagnosed with breast cancer in June of 2022, it was no surprise to me that I turned again to this healer, this survivor, this warrior. What came pouring out of me now though, instead of the white and glowing portrayals of the Ghost Pipe in its prime, was the autumnal version of the flower. In the fall as the Ghost Pipe dies, its luminescent body furls and browns, becoming a hardened and shriveled stalk. Throughout my cancer treatment I found myself leaning heavily on this form of the Ghost Pipe.
Here then is my wrestling with the realms. And here is the Ghost Pipe as my steadfast guide through the nebulous, terrible, gorgeous and fragile dance between life and death.
Big Bend Conservation Alliance
I’ve been a big fan of the BBCA for years now, so this project was a dream. Having lived in West Texas for a short time, I am enchanted by that desert and the sense of ancient mystery it evokes. It was an honor to try to capture the majesty of that land for such an important organization. I also loved adapting the design to multiple mediums and stretching my artistic muscles in order to meet the needs of the project.
Then Come The Night
Non-human animals, of course, do not live by our human codes of conduct but are becoming increasingly subject to them. The idea of constructing a border wall between the US and Mexico may be controversial in the human scope, but in the natural world it seems it can only mean division and disruption, and therefore destruction. In my time living in West Texas I’ve seen the changes even a crude fence can cause in this delicate and fragile landscape. The existence of a border wall and the construction of it will forever change this land and the species that have clung so fervently to life out here.
I dreamt this project up long ago when a border wall was first mentioned, but figured that by the time I was able to create and produce all of the prints necessary, the concept of a border wall would be a distant and ridiculous memory for us all. As the controversy continued I thought maybe I’d get to work. It’s sort of horrifying to think that now, after all this time working on these prints I assumed would be insignificant upon completion, the wall is closer to being built than ever.
There are many species, many more than I have carved of course, that will be harmed by a wall. I have chosen these particular subjects due to their presence in The Big Bend and surrounding regions, their current “endangered” or “threatened” status, my creative intrigue in carving their likeness, and their having of eyeballs from which I could carve “star strings” (so many beautiful cacti left out).
In everything I create I hope to strengthen the connection between humans and nature, as I see it to be one of our most important relationships. With this project in particular I hope to bring a bit of light to the creatures we have left in the dark.
National Park Tour
For the release of my last full-length studio album, From the Forest Came the Fire, I decided to forego the traditional club and bar circuit for the release tour, instead opting for the gorgeous natural venues of our National Parks.
This was an incredible way to see our country’s natural riches. I learned so much from the rangers at each park about the specific issues they are facing and the specific resources they aim to protect. Watching the clear, cold rivers flow from the tops of the mountains in Sequoia, hearing the loons call over the inland lakes of Isle Royale, standing over the magnificent blue holy waters of Crater Lake, my commitment to conserving and protecting these lands was strengthened. We have so much left to save.
We traveled to eight different parks including Guadalupe Mountains, White Sands, Saguaro, Sequoia, Crater Lake, Bandlands, Sleeping Bear, and Isle Royale (and many beautiful stops in between). The tour was sponsored by Bota Box, Ft. Lonesome, Stout Tent, and Ginew. We worked with each park to ensure a safe and enjoyable experience for audience members, and a non-intrusive event for wildlife.
I’m very excited to move forward with this new conviction and to use the tools I have to work towards preserving what natural spaces we have left. I am also ready to listen to people of color, especially Native American voices that have been far too long silenced. These are the voices that we must follow now.
In the middle of the tour I spent two weeks as the first Artist-In-Residence at Sequoia National Park. I lived in a cabin in Mineral King, a gorgeous and lesser-travelled part of the Park. My time there was life-changing. I had never before seen trees that old and tall, rivers that clear and cold, valleys that pure. While there I read a lot about the fascinating history of Mineral King. At many different points in history, men tried to make something of the valley for themselves. Multiple mining operations failed, and at one point Walt Disney attempted to purchase the entire valley in order to turn it into a ski resort before the Sierra Club stepped in. In the end, it was annexed as part of Sequoia/Kings Canyon and declared to be what it has always been; a valley. As an artist struggling with her direction at the time, I drew deep inspiration from this.
rabbit island
Rabbit Island is an Artist Residency located on a tiny island off the Keweenaw Peninsula in Michigan. I was extremely fortunate to be invited as an unofficial artist-in-residence for a week in the summer of 2017. I found the island to be extremely inspiring, and got to work writing a song immediately.
While I found solace in the sauna building and did most of my writing there, it was a particular spot on the other side of the island that stole my creative attention. The ruins of an old cabin, now half buried in the island forest, told of the family that used to live on this island long ago.
I began writing verses about the man and woman who lived on the island during the winter months, both slowly losing their minds to the darkness in separate, private ways.
After finishing the song, my husband and the Artist Residency Program Manager and Co-Founder, Andrew Ranville, and I headed out to make a video of the song. We filmed in the ruins of the cabin, in the sauna, and in a mystical spot in Lake Superior where depth is an illusion. We hope to release the video soon.
To conclude my stay on the island I held a musical performance in the “amphitheater”, using the underside of a fallen tree as the backdrop. We invited the local townspeople from the mainland who travelled over by boat. This is my very favorite kind of show to play, where content and atmosphere are seamlessly joined.
Big Bend Triptych