This continuing series of paintings was inspired when I began looking down at the landscapes underfoot, and the landscapes sitting on the water.

During the pandemic my young dog and I walked daily among the farms, orchards and creeks near my house - “an uneasy mix of natural landscape and modern agriculture” (Sharon Butler) coming home to spend the remainder of the day painting in my home studio. The experience culminated in a solo exhibition at the John Natsoulas Gallery. Read the essay here: Two Coats of Paint

Museum of No Spectators 2022

In a radically inclusive and interactive way, the Museum of No Spectators creates a space for everyone to make art and become an exhibiting artist. With the brainchild and design by John Marx and Project Manager Architect James Monday, I was honored to be an artist in residence here in 2022.

At a work table in the main gallery of MoNS on the playa every morning from 7:00 until the dust blew in or it became too hot, visitors became makers if they wanted to. This was a place where anyone could belly up and spend 5 minutes or two hours making collages from hand printed and painted papers. There were always at least a couple of parties at the table, absorbed in their experience of sorting, aroused by images and color, grouping, tearing, matching, thinking, not-thinking, gluing, pressing, dreaming, sometimes laughing and telling stories.

In contrast with the impressive enormity of the art on the playa, this experience was humble and homey, akin to a quilting bee. It involved touching and evoked highly personal reactions to small things. For many, this appeared to be a respite from what they were experiencing at Burning Man – it was a chance to go inside their own world at a human scale and remember/share something about themselves that was not quite tangible or remembered.

A few people settled in to making after a hard night they had just had on the playa. An artist told me about how he is honoring his Korean ancestry as he found papers that suggested a Korean forest. A couple who had just reunited after a long time made a bright, fun collage together that encapsulated their hopes. A tearful woman filled hers with symbols that held meaning for her (a crow, a tree, a starburst) and she took it home to frame. Lucy from England was thrilled because all she really wanted to do was be a designer but lamented doing something else with her life. Waffle, from Germany, made a tight little composition and then exploded it with all kinds of papers flying off the page, and paint everywhere. An intense little boy had very deliberate and sophisticated ideas of what he needed to do, and was upset that his father wanted to leave. He left with a backpack full of papers and supports.

The intent was for me to edit the images begun by others, however, almost all participants prefered to take their pieces home. Shown here is a piece by MoNS visitor Gary Parsons which I brought to my studio and edited/painted. It garnered a lot of interest at a recent open studio.

As someone who experiences art making in cherished isolation, I was opened up and softened by the opportunity to observe and engage with people who were having an immediate visceral experience with color, touch, image and their story. This was a great and unexpected gift for me, a heart filled collaboration.

Presented here are images of paintings located in imagined locations.