Snakeskin: Impermanence in Nature
I love to create art in nature, with natural materials. It is highly therapeutic and reflective for me. I usually do not bring a camera, as an unofficial rule of my own that keeps my intention connected to what is emergent and helps remove my inner critic from the process. I also play expressively with other materials, and, again, have a habit for not keeping or documenting my work.
It feels like a Snakeskin kind of process; the act itself was the transformation, and I often discard the results. I am working on changing the metaphor, and have started inviting the idea of valuing my work over the years and saving it to continue as a constant work in progress. I have chosen to focus on visual art here and not include my poetry.
The Light of the North, Vancouver 2020. (Above)
Call of the Wild, Integrative Seminar Cover for my Masterβs Degree Collected Writings, California Institute of Integral Studies, Fall 2013. This wolf howling at the moon was created with construction paper. It was a way of staking my climb to my place in a long line of feminist eco-poets. It was my way of finding my pack. (Left)
Forever Green, my annual collage 2020, for my own office wall. This one is especially dear to me this year, as I made it in Barcelona in February, just after my birthday and one month before the pandemic shook up our entire plan for the year. I love the magic that emerges from the subconscious here. It was still pretty right on, even with big and unexpected international moves. (Below)
Butterfly Medicine. Vancouver 2020
The Shining Way, Vancouver 2020
Symphonies, Vancouver 2020
Tail of the Tiger, Berkeley 2013
Study of Miro, Berkeley 2013
Reflections in Bloom, Vancouver 2020
Extra Terrestrial, Vancouver 2020
Emergent Leopard, Vancouver 2020
The Elements at Play, Vancouver 2020
Heart for Peace, connecting with the vote for a peace agreement for Colombia. Kauai, September 2016.
Me in the studio. Taken by my partner, Subachoque, Colombia, 2018.