The lake is expanding, the feather falling slower than it should. The leaves are waving. There’s a calling into space. The space that you can maneuver yourself into with a shoulder. Ever so gently. The space when the sun lights a patch and overhead starts to twinkle. The space when a berry ripens plump and lush inviting you to the picking.

Something beyond the verbal slow burns into silence and caves and dropping away from productivity towards experience. The felt. The misunderstood. The non-knowledge.  The becoming mute. The rejecting. The multiple layers of understanding. Following a trail of trial and error connections to the environment. Some sense of attention. Makes my cells smile. Feel the thing growing from within me – organically taking shape –as all life grows.

20191002_172550-1

Oil Painting, Hampstead Heath, Sept-Oct 2019, from the series When the Trees Speak, Listen

My artwork has taken many twists and turns. What connects it all is a want to explore my emotional landscape and stay on the boundaries of external and internal worlds. I was very involved in feminist and queer art-making for several years until I took a long solo pilgrimage that led me away from concepts and deeper into experience and nature. I craved connection, with myself and the world around me. This blog is pulling all the elements of my portfolio together in one place. There are films, photographs, paintings, writings and drawings.