gouache

Artist to Watch

It's all things February right now: confusing weather (snowstorm followed by rainstorm, followed by 60˚F days, followed by flooding), dreams of seed starting and growing the garden, and studio work. I'm working hard to finish collage paintings for my upcoming show (opens March 27) at Studio Place Arts in my home city of Barre, Vt., where I currently have a studio space as an artist-in-residence

My studio, looking out...the fishbowl!

My studio, looking out...the fishbowl!

In other news, Vermont Art Guide just published their latest issue--#6--and included me as one of their "artists to watch." I'm honored to be featured alongside the likes of Janet Van Fleet and other favorite Vermont artists. I'll also have work included in one of the two exhibitions at the Vermont Arts Council later this spring, showcasing the artists featured in the artist-to-watch series.

Back to the drawing board, now.

May your spirits stay high--despite of or because of the rain--and may you see some good art!

A work in progress in my studio - I start with a collage base of vintage images and paint over them.

A work in progress in my studio - I start with a collage base of vintage images and paint over them.

Birds' Eye

Birds-eye-view, aerial, and panoramic views…why do I love it so? I’m working on a picture of Montpelier, VT, currently my hometown, and in doing so, I’m seeing what the wide world of Google has to offer me for references. So much overhead view! Is landscape a character? If attachment to a landscape supersedes other things like job opportunities, cost of living, diversity, are you crazy to remain attached? I find myself in that boat, tied up to a particular harbor. In my case, the boat is a canoe, and the harbor is a green bank on a Vermont lake. It’s frightening, committing to a place. My limitless view of the world (”I could go ANYWHERE…except maybe Afghanistan”) has tightened, the aperture dialed down, and gone is a periphery. Through my pinhole view, I gaze at the details. All of this is by choice - or is it? Is there a thread that keeps us tethered to a place, because the landscape matches up with our own shape? Like a giant hand moving puzzle pieces, slotting me in to this one little open space. 

Bird's eye vintage view, Montpelier, Vermont