|"Galaxy", cyanotype print with usnea, wild rose, river pebbles by Rebecca Barfoot|
It’s a fertile place, this focused frenzy- but again, as ephemeral as our waking hours and numbered earthbound days.
|Smuggled Arctic seal bones adorn- incongruously- a bed of autumn leaves|
I can’t say with precision what happened for me internally in the icescape of the Arctic- but something did happen. As if the cold sharpness of bedrock and glacier ripped me open like a storm running down the middle of my life, then tossed me back to sea to find my own way back to shore and sanity.
|Glacier meets bedrock, NW Greenland|
|Aspens in full glory at a secret spot in southwest CO|
Beyond the poetic is the scientific: trees give us oxygen, clean our air, filter the soil, and manage to transform greenhouse gases into wood. No wonder I’m smitten.
I won’t ask you if you’ve ever hugged a tree, but when was the last time you laid down beneath a canopy of, say, an enormous live oak- to be cradled by the forest floor, branches and leaves twining above and the open sky beyond? (Now’s your time! Autumn is perfect!) The pungent dirt-smell of moist leaves returning to the earth delivers me to a mysterious yet familiar place of yearning.
|A winter live oak thrives in west Texas|
|"Skeleton Ship", porcelain paperclay by Rebecca Barfoot|
|Untitled, by the young, gifted, and tragically fated Francesca Woodman, MacDowell Colony, Peterbough, NH, 1980|