The figurative sculptures from the 1980s took on torso forms and sprouted spikes in the 90s. I snuck away to my studio in frustration that the rich agricultural land of the California Central Valley was being politically given away to grow subdivisions. At numerous hearings I tried to make a case for preserving one of the most fertile valleys in the world. I felt I was powerless, but I persisted.
My work has always been referenced by landscape, particularly as it has been influenced by human touch. Being a conceptual artist, I have used drawings and collage on small clay boxes as metaphor for very large environmental issues. Now I am fortifying myself with height and a tougher surface! I’m beginning to understand my work relates to my place in the everlasting stream of consciousness. In my studio, double-sided masks emerged from the torsos. At least metaphorically I became even more an enigma, now with spikes. These sculptures came to be years before my husband and I even thought to go to Africa for our next sabbatical adventure. They were my personal response to witnessing further degradation of the garden of Eden that was the undisturbed Great Central Valley of California. When I later spent an artful year in Zimbabwe I felt at home with the Ancients and the flora, fauna and stellar landscape of origin. I was not amazed, but rather satisfied, that these images were confirmed by the ancient rock art drawings found at thousands of sites in Zimbabwe. It seems I work in a rich tradition of image makers. |