For Its Season

“Nature does not recognize it; she finds her own again under new forms without loss. Yet death is beautiful when seen to be a law, and not an accident. It is as common as life... Every blade in the field, every leaf in the forest, lays down its life in its season, as beautifully as it was taken up.” –– Henry David Thoreau, Letter to Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1842 I’ve lived amongst the trees all my life—overwhelmed by the temptation to look up, through, and beyond the branches toward the surrounding sky, questioning the seemingly infinite space toward the horizon. As such, I wonder: how much of this world have I overlooked, ignored, or stepped on while distracted by the soaring, living branches above? While seeking (searching) to answer this question with paint, horizonless landscapes have emerged on the surface. Moreover, the landscapes manifest themselves throughout my work as grasses, weeds, reed-like forms, and other earthly scatterings often rooted in a seasonal color palette. Furthermore, these subject matters most often represent the lifeless/forgotten/temporary forms that surround me in my everyday life. For instance, the winter weeds that flow across the surface will be trampled to the ground and overtaken by new growth, the shadows that stretch beyond the canvas will be disrupted by a footstep or fallen tree, and the ridges of snow will melt away into the soil as temperatures rise. The gravity of paying attention in new ways has led me to recognize the unnoticed patterns that repeat themselves within one’s everyday environment. For example, when given the opportunity to work/think/resolve compositions outside of the traditional rectangle, six-sided shapes reveal themselves as part of our common landscape. Whether it be a snowflake falling from the sky, the honeycomb of a beehive, or a raft of bubbles settled on a leaf, hexagons repeat themselves over and over within our surroundings while seemingly remaining unnoticed. In turn, the varying shapes of my surfaces respond to this overlooked element, and my canvas stretchers make up six-sided forms. Whether the canvas shapes are symmetrical or irregular, the potential of varying arrangements challenge the traditional Renaissance window, while the size allows for a near-life-size portrayal. Evident by the installations of different combinations of structures and materials that allow for this consideration, overlapping surfaces, faux walls, and free-standing forms emerge. Building upon the overlapping that occurs in nature in relation to the overlapping that occurs inside one’s house walls, we are not unlike the natural elements that live alongside us; we are nature. In short, I remain interested in the materiality of oil paint and various mediums, utilizing a variety of tools to apply it. Like the way in which the immediate landscapes without horizon lines had been overlooked and then later found, everyday objects are treated in a similar manner (dustpans, window scraper, brush, etc.). While paying attention to my surroundings, I actively seek different uses for common tools. Ultimately, I watch for opportunities to intersect themes of paying attention, looking in new ways, and using my intuition as I encounter ordinary tools in my daily life in search of answers to the question: “How much of this world have I overlooked?” My commitment to being an artist is compelled by curiosity and the desire to document, explore, and display everyday observations and experiences that I have lived, observed, touched, or stepped on. Although I remain tempted by the trees above and the horizon line they frame, I believe there is more information that lies within the unnoticed, dead, and overlooked elements of nature. By shedding light on these landscapes, my main interest remains intact--something the trees cannot overwhelmUniversity of Wisconsin--Stout. Office of Research and Sponsored Program