Saturday, November 14, 2020

After the Operation 1984

For most of my adult life I've had respiratory issues: bad seasonal and food allergies and then sinusitis after sinusitis, about one a year since I was twenty-eight--almost 40 years worth. On Nov.16 I'm having nasal surgery to try and correct some of those problems. The surgeon will go in and shift things around and trim the turbinates, altogether about 90 minutes total time if there are no complications. I'm not looking forward to Monday, but what I'm really dreading are the days that follow. For about a week I will have to breath through my mouth and will be limited in what I can do physically(no bending over, no lifting of anything over 10 pounds, no jogging, nor horse back riding etc.), and of course the pain and discomfort of having your nose sliced up and rearranged. Yesterday I met with the surgeon and realized how much I was turning over to this man: trusting that he will do a good job, that he will be capable, and kind, and, most importantly, knowing that he will do the his very best to take care of my poor, troublesome nose.  

Sunday, October 11, 2020

Man with a Baby 2001

In July of 1987, I delivered a baby girl.  She was my first child, another daughter, Teal, came three years later.  Now that first baby is having her own baby, due any day, already a few days past his due date.  I think back to that day, 33 years ago, and think what a huge seismic shift that baby made to my life.  Everything changed and was never the same again.  She was born before we had computers, or cell phones, before we had email or social media, before we worried over climate change or politics gone terribly awry.  But mostly, she changed the way I saw the world, moving from the center of it, off to the side, where the baby, and later her sister would seat themselves, front and center.  I learned from my baby how to be a good parent, because I had to be, and I learned from watching my husband, what a good father was, because I hadn't had that in my life. I learned from those babies what unconditional love meant because I hadn't known that either. I'm not sure what changes being a grandmother will bring for me, but I know that, for my daughter, her new baby will make her life richer and fuller beyond all imagining.

Sunday, September 27, 2020

Troubled Dreams 1994

Winescapes with Holly Roberts


This past month Deborah Klochko, the director of the Museum of Photograpic Arts(MOPA)in San Diego, did a Zoom interview with me for their series, "Winescapes", a series of interviews with people involved in the world of photography, either as artists, curators, or collectors.  It's just under an hour, and it was a delightful interview for me, with Deborah taking me back to the early days of my career up until the present.  Her questions were thoughtful, insightful, and fun and we illustrated each time period with images along with pictures of my studio.  If you have the time, grab a snack and a drink and settle in and give it a watch.  And if you have more time and love photography, there are 8 more interviews to give you a better understanding of the contemporary world of photography.

Winescapes with Holly Roberts 


Monday, August 31, 2020

Double Deer 2019

I know for me, as an artist, 2020 has been crazy, as it has been for all of us, artists or not.  I was due to have an exhibit in April at Candela Gallery in Richmond, Virginia.  When I was making my plane and hotel reservations in February, Gordon Stettinius, the owner of the gallery, and I talked about my flight, and this virus that seemed to be going around.  Neither of us was really concerned, and from the opening I was going to go to West Palm Beach in Florida to the Norton Museum, to teach a week long workshop.  Meanwhile, my husband, Robert Wilson and I, had a show together at the UNM Hospital which opened in mid February, and almost simultaneously we prepared for another exhibit in Tucson with Etherton Gallery, to open in March, Go Figure.  We loaded up the truck and Bob drove his sculptures and my paintings to the Gallery to be ready for the opening on March 17.  The next day the country shut down.  My show with Candela was cancelled, as was the workshop.  The show was up at Etherton, but the gallery was closed, and our show at UNMH was, of course, totally off limits to anyone but patients and staff. All my workshops were cancelled through the end of December.  I felt as if I had two lives that I was living:  the one that I had planned for but never happened and the real one where everything had constricted and drawn in on itself.

Candela Gallery is going to go ahead with my show with them, Primitive Visions, and there will be a real opening, although, of course, I won't be there(they plan on publishing a small catalog of work in the show as a way to reach out to people). We got our work back from the Hospital a few weeks ago, and Etherton Gallery has extended our exhibit into the fall--TBA. So things are limping along, but in a brave, who knows what the heck is going to happen sort of way. One the one hand I feel badly, but on the other, I know that this is just the price we are all having to pay for the strange calamity that has befallen the world--and of course knowing that it could have been so much worse.

Wednesday, August 12, 2020

Two Rabbits Fighting 2020

 Edwin Fisher, a professor of health behavior at the Gillings School of Global Public Health at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill ... worries about depression, suicide rates and marital problems — things that are currently at heightened rates because of the pandemic.Huffpost 8/6/2020

It's a harsh, contentious, post covid world.  I've been called a bigot and a racist by strangers for seemingly non bigot and non racist events.  I've gotten into strange tussles with close friends, which all seem to spring from some sort of twisted covid related issue.  When I'm out in public, I'm always looking for the "Karen" in the crowd, the person wearing their mask around their chin, or not wearing one at all.  When I see that person, I'm outraged(although I never say anything). And that doesn't come anywhere near approaching what is happening on a national level. Most of us, our screens in front of us, watch in horror as we see people attack each other and burn and loot buildings, while deadly shootings seem to be the order of the day. These cottontail rabbits, that I see on a daily basis, seemingly so harmless and gentle, but, like us, there's most probably trouble brewing under those big eyes and that fluffy fur.


Sunday, July 26, 2020

Supplicant 2017

 Supplicant:  someone who prays or entreats humbly

The year 2020 has rocketed out of control. It seems to be a storm of awful things happening, from the global pandemic, to civil unrest, to trying to make sense of a leader who appears, for all intents and purposes, to just simply be evil.  And then personally, a number of close friends have had frightening things happen to them, really bad things. When I did this painting three years ago I wasn't sure of exactly what the painting was saying, just that it was an important piece for me.  But now, in the midst of all of this, I'm starting to understand: giving up control of thinking we are in control, and asking, or praying for understanding, whatever that means. I think the piece is about turning over to a greater power because, really, what else can we do?