I felt quite lost in the early pandemic with cancelled projects and isolation. I explored in the studio with cutting out imagery of decomposition and re-birth using old metal junk.
This is a very small planet, 3.5' diameter. I like to think a planet of this size covered in butterflies is a peaceful space full of happily pollinated plants.
In mutualism two different species benefit through interaction. Here a hummingbird obtains nectar from a hibiscus flower. At the same time, the hummingbird brings pollen that pollinates the flower. The bird gets food, and the flower gets help in reproducing. What an inspiring way to live in this world.
Four panels of butterfly wings with imagery of deep roots, Zia sun symbol, growth and people.
A blue heron is about to launch from this old fence post.
Working with the land as well as working with junk metal, I think about decomposing matter and waste, and about the hidden life that takes place under our feet and how it’s impacted by human by-products. Birthed from these wonderings, I built tentacles, exploring the imaginative visions of something underground rising up from the soil. A playful monstrous surprise? A conglomeration of earth’s raw materials? The soils revenge?
Playing with friends inside a water droplet; dreams do come true.
Three large sunflowers, made from old farm parts, grow up the wall of this Centennial Farm House in Kirk, CO.
When this giant caterpillar emerges, let’s hope it can find enough to eat to avoid a life of mushroom - sitting and hookah - smoking.
One out of every four animals is a beetle. When you approach this beetle, consider that some of the bigger species of beetle have been known to eat small birds and mammals and can eat their body weight in food daily. This beetle weighs 212 lbs.
Insect eggs are intricately beautiful. The metal sheets I used to build these were wonderfully rusted before I got to them. This is my intersection of exciting discoveries.
The heroic dung beetle. Go dung beetle go!