New Mexico reflections
I’ve been in
New Mexico for five weeks now, as work progresses on the old adobe building
that will be our winter home. We’re
fortunate to have some very skilled and dedicated workers, all local guys, who
not only roof, patch up adobe and plaster, pour concrete, and build bancos, but
also offer helpful suggestions about how to approach some of the unique aspects
of adobe remodeling. Watching their work makes me truly appreciate the
connection between adobe buildings and the land, and the long traditions
involved in making these earth homes beautiful and practical.
While that
goes on around me, my days are mostly centered around painting, walking,
staring at rocks and sunsets, meeting new people, and generally enjoying this
unique environment. It’s all still so new and amazing to me that I have a lot
of moments that strike me as unreal. Driving up the spectacular Rio Grande
gorge on my way to buy groceries in Taos, it’s hard to believe that I’m on a routine errand. Picking my way
up the rocky terrain behind our house, with its vast views on all sides, I try
to take in that this is home for at least part of the year.
I am
incredibly grateful to be here and for me, the best way to express this is
through my work. I’ve been painting some fairly large panels (36”x48”) as well
as smaller works on panel and paper. I continue to see the effects of this
arid, angular and textural environment in my work. In some ways, this feels
fresh and new, and in other ways there is a continuation of ideas that began
back in Ireland in the fall--such as including more distinctive shapes and
higher contrast. That seems right to me, that form can shift to accommodate new
input yet retain the threads of ideas that are worth exploring.
|
Azure, 36x48" oil/coldwax/pigments on panel |
My adobe
studio, one of two outbuildings on the property, is tiny and closed-in compared
to the one in Wisconsin—I have about 12 feet each way of usable floor space,
and just one small, unglazed window, which I need to keep covered on chillier
days. I have several strong, LED lights
and spotlights, so the lighting is OK—it’s more that the lack of windows gives
it the feeling of being in a cave! When my window is covered, the day can go
from light to dark without me ever realizing it. But on sunny, warm winter days
though (such a treat to a Wisconsinite) I can open my front door to let in
light and air.
Working in
such a small space is something of a challenge. But I am adapting. I brought only minimal supplies from
Wisconsin, so there’s not much clutter, and the bancos (built-in low shelves or
seats that reinforce the structure) provide a flat surface against three walls
for storage and work space. Shortly after I got here, I answered an ad in the
local newsletter from someone selling studio supplies, and acquired a wonderful
adjustable drawing table, two floor lights, and a few other useful items.
I have to
smile a bit when I think of the chapter about setting up a studio in our
upcoming book (Cold Wax Medium: Techniques, Concepts & Conversations, with
Jerry McLaughlin.) A lot of our advice about working surfaces and storage would
not apply at all in my current space! But we also make the point that a dedicated
artist can work anywhere, and I seem to be testing that theory at the moment.
In the future, I hope that something larger and airier can be built on our
property here. But in the meantime, what I have here is more than fine.
As I write
this, I am in the midst of packing and organizing to leave tomorrow for three
weeks. It seems odd to be uprooting
myself from this place in which I’m settling in and enjoying so thoroughly. But
I’m also very excited about the next phase—New Zealand! I’ll be teaching two workshop sessions at
Takapuna Art Supply in Auckland, assisted by my friend and co-author Jerry
McLaughlin. I’ll also be enjoying the company of another dear friend, Norma
Hendrix, who is the director of the Cullowhee Mountain Arts program. We’ll all have some time for travel and
relaxing together, as well as teaching. I look forward very much to this time
of exploring the area, working with students both new and from the past, and
experiencing a new culture.
To end on a
reflective note, I have debated with myself about whether to post these good
things in my life, at a time when many of us are coping with daily news of drastic
changes in our country. I know that the
blessings in my own life make it relatively easy for me to hold on to joy,
optimism and gratitude. Yet I also believe that Goodness is a universal and
unifying principle. As many others have said recently, holding onto the beauty
and positive aspects of life is what keeps us moving forward. I hope that we can all continue to share and
appreciate what is happy, abundant and joyful in our lives.