Everything about the Pacific North West, including my love for the place, is big. Perhaps that is why my love took hold. The simple magic of feeling small. The Gunnera, its emblem. Grandiose, prehistoric, botanical gluttony. This series is an ode to that big time love. Getting mesmerized, enchanted, perhaps even swallowed whole as I fall forever in love.
I am a big believer that the greatest art is always signed by nature itself. Whether it's a turtle's shell, a hummingbird's nest, or a knot in a tree, my being is left brimming in revere. I am currently putting off real life with a month in Costa Rica. Here, it is easy to applaud the greenery, the shadows cast by palm fronds, the roots of an orchid embracing a tree. It is easy to forget to see the beauty of death in all the fruitful life. These three leaves, collected walking back from the beach, struck me with their grace. They seemed to be preforming a fluid dance to decay. And once again I bowed down to the nature of things. I absorbed their lesson that sculpture is movement at a glimpse.
