Wilderness whips my legs and sings in my head. It fills my lungs with purpose and fire, my heart beats with mysterious, thrilling music. I am intrigued by a foot polished stone that has been knocked loose by the 15 thousandth tread. I pick it up. It’s a head. It becomes my head. I am connected. I am as strong as a mountain and as deep. I am as beautiful and tough as a boulder. I am as steady as a trail. I am a rock-twisted root in desert and mountain. Sculptures become a manifestation of experience and endurance; a nod to my own power. I am a rock, a root, a stick, a mountain.
Gathered carefully on my wilderness outings, rocks and roots inform me that we are made of the earth and fundamentally connected to nature and responsible for her protection. I worry over plastic in oceans, micro plastics in the air, changing weather patterns, drought, floods, impending coastal inundation, wild fires, melting glacial ice, habitat loss, species extinction, fires in the amazon, collapse of coral populations. These issues are feeling hopeless and catastrophic. My work comes from an urgent place of joy, sadness, beauty and dread; these are my responses to that whole good and bad place we all share.