tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25170430607462927432024-03-14T02:42:05.012-07:00Holly Roberts One Painting at a Time30+ years of paintings, talked about one painting at a time: what went into the paintings, what I was trying to say, what was happening at the time of my life that I made the paintings. The paintings themselves are narrative, and this adds a little more to the story that they tell.Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.comBlogger355125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-18213897599900993022024-02-29T17:55:00.000-08:002024-02-29T17:55:52.576-08:00Saying Goodbye 1987<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX-fAI-m4NyS7AKa9i-Dpfn1W5cPUh0wfXGFWRuBs2bsiY2ERilLbeTuUEBuXIvyIQCbjzFaaCMh7giF4c56eMtrdsh31P-kaMu781BslHkqdJUTHbidS7Mdlz4pvdu_96E12vRRDgaWJdANpEiuW5FhPfVRePDyE1RSU_RGJN1R_DecDr4RH8QB4x-oRR/s800/Saying-Goodbye.osp.20x16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="565" height="562" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX-fAI-m4NyS7AKa9i-Dpfn1W5cPUh0wfXGFWRuBs2bsiY2ERilLbeTuUEBuXIvyIQCbjzFaaCMh7giF4c56eMtrdsh31P-kaMu781BslHkqdJUTHbidS7Mdlz4pvdu_96E12vRRDgaWJdANpEiuW5FhPfVRePDyE1RSU_RGJN1R_DecDr4RH8QB4x-oRR/w397-h562/Saying-Goodbye.osp.20x16.jpg" width="397" /></a></div><p>In 1987 I painted "Saying Goodbye" after a tough loss. This last week, I pulled the image out of my flat file storage, and packed it up, along with 23 other paintings that have been donated to Wright State University in Ohio(Wright State has a wonderful and unique lending program where students can check art work out for the semester from the Museum's collection). Once again, it was difficult putting together such a large body of work and sending it off, but this particular piece was especially hard to let go of. I think partially because I am at a time in my life where I'm saying lots of goodbyes: to my art, to parents who have passed on, to friends who have died too young, to a small dog who has been my special friend for 14 years. <br /></p><p><br /> </p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-83044910777915081942024-01-28T17:39:00.000-08:002024-01-28T17:39:13.887-08:00Hummingbird(with Figure Standing) 2016<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOpJ83LU0ZpsTpMLfsWnU_O2dK7zGtYZ76AcCg5vgHODAYFsMFdxC92vh6D0hjA6u-iHWuzhaWk_qEttWZKFmREP-H3ijd_2slr0YKGLG1hLRCcU9lvcEgxVEU7XrR0lAmsM-QKt9HoCASS4hNhZI2ehVKL1GTeEZx8gTTUQQGwnwrS8vKO6Hpr5Ow6awH/s800/Hummingbird(with-Figure-Standing).24x18.2016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="591" height="551" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOpJ83LU0ZpsTpMLfsWnU_O2dK7zGtYZ76AcCg5vgHODAYFsMFdxC92vh6D0hjA6u-iHWuzhaWk_qEttWZKFmREP-H3ijd_2slr0YKGLG1hLRCcU9lvcEgxVEU7XrR0lAmsM-QKt9HoCASS4hNhZI2ehVKL1GTeEZx8gTTUQQGwnwrS8vKO6Hpr5Ow6awH/w406-h551/Hummingbird(with-Figure-Standing).24x18.2016.jpg" width="406" /></a></div><br /> On March 30 of this year, the Museum of Photographic Art at the San Diego Museum of Art, will present my work in a 40 year retrospective. The exhibit, titled "Storyteller: Works by Holly Roberts" will run until Aug. 18, and will include 59 pieces of mine created from 1980 until 2023. There will be a beautiful book to go along with the retrospective with an essay by Deborah Klochko, former director of MOPA. At the end of the exhibit all 59 pieces will go into the permanent collection of the Museum. <p></p><p>For the past several weeks, I've been preparing the work to be delivered to the museum, soft wrapping them to be picked up by art handlers and driven out. It's very bittersweet. While I'm pleased that my work will have a permanent home at the Museum, I'm sad to see the work go. Although I sell work knowing I won't see the work again, this is 59 pieces going in one giant exit from my life. It feels as if I'm losing my limbs all at once--fingers, toes, arms, legs and a big chunk of my heart. <br /></p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-85705550749289224762023-12-24T16:22:00.000-08:002023-12-24T16:22:37.678-08:00Man with a Squirel 2023<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><p><br /> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZMMD5SK43Ka4i6KKi0IMBLAHuhP3spk2S4zSZZsRsbq0eORFjXN6NSQKglEF_nQJ9zQ28_si3kQJF6tB1pUUXbh8UwjXXBS5gCb-STaGtExxqMpclFQwUDMfm5sB3Ufk_5u2UmqouA89ry5a5rzONi2pv8r7ETIFORgknxrKT8BHVqzFGbiU7evFrK2-Y/s800/man-with-squirell-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="800" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZMMD5SK43Ka4i6KKi0IMBLAHuhP3spk2S4zSZZsRsbq0eORFjXN6NSQKglEF_nQJ9zQ28_si3kQJF6tB1pUUXbh8UwjXXBS5gCb-STaGtExxqMpclFQwUDMfm5sB3Ufk_5u2UmqouA89ry5a5rzONi2pv8r7ETIFORgknxrKT8BHVqzFGbiU7evFrK2-Y/w660-h330/man-with-squirell-2.jpg" width="660" /></a></div><p></p><p>I have a problematic relationships with squirrels. We have just a few in our neighborhood, but when I go to a place where they are plentiful, they make me nervous with their herky-jerky movments, and their lightening like ability to go up and over just about anything that is vertical. A student once brought me a dead squirrel wrapped in leaves (the same student had also brought me a dead snake a few days before which I scanned and then had to get rid of because of the smell), which is where the squirrel in this image comes from. The story is ominous to me, with the bare trees and the vulture like birds watching the man scurry off in a guilty way with the lifeless squirrel in hand. <br /></p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-39098571672715677122023-11-28T10:59:00.000-08:002023-11-28T10:59:21.503-08:00Red Couple 2008<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSOzDSK0VrimDn-FR_Gi8cG1a2gHyIXcKLte02UrTng7Masszqd7XUP_wFFySsmJ-eGlOQuC-qVGuON1XlZ5GtlkcqMAr2yqvpFr_iQcXOgQ4YJ4GZyUVfSzLhjIPaU6RX4a8Aa9NDtfN25m3OF0w4Z-SJYgzYvddCigUEgHFSUBAZMmd9YdzybQXa3Vx8/s800/Red-Couple.7x6.75.2008..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="791" height="499" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSOzDSK0VrimDn-FR_Gi8cG1a2gHyIXcKLte02UrTng7Masszqd7XUP_wFFySsmJ-eGlOQuC-qVGuON1XlZ5GtlkcqMAr2yqvpFr_iQcXOgQ4YJ4GZyUVfSzLhjIPaU6RX4a8Aa9NDtfN25m3OF0w4Z-SJYgzYvddCigUEgHFSUBAZMmd9YdzybQXa3Vx8/w493-h499/Red-Couple.7x6.75.2008..jpg" width="493" /></a></div><br />Although I don't usually feel that my images are political, I came across "Red Couple" recently. Done in 2008, the skirt of the woman and the torso of the man are from a photograph of <a href="https://www.icp.org/browse/archive/objects/lee-harvey-oswald-standing-outside-his-home-holding-a-rifle-dallas">Lee Harvey Oswald</a><a href="https://www.icp.org/browse/archive/objects/lee-harvey-oswald-standing-outside-his-home-holding-a-rifle-dallas"> </a>holding a rifle The woman's torso is made from a design of different kinds of skeletons of humans and animals(just in case you missed the death reference with the rifle images). Looking back, 2008 almost seems to have been a time of innocence. It was pre Trump, pre COVID, pre the war between the Ukraine and Russia, climate change wasn't as dire, and now, most horrifically, the conflict between Israel and Hamas(although I'm sure there was violence in 2008 as well). I almost never use red in my work, or red like this, a red that dominates the painting, but in this case, it's a clear reference to blood. This morning, someone posted on my Facebook feed the image of five dead children from the Israel/Hamas conflict whose bodies had been laid out on a table. It was too awful for words. <br /><p></p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-33504000052474981782023-10-31T17:32:00.000-07:002023-10-31T17:32:19.829-07:00Watch Dogs 2007<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhdcwe0USRVlzMf0QcvKyl4YFegxbvPxL1tDvoAvy7FehGUFCG0DUBX4AOwWt511awiwFGxYFvK5aKuWOUApzLsv7ppEZgrVzZm3jlFDHkSw7vrMzAWUQa3Tsr6KwF7OQ62aqf4h9XsFUY2CslDMfeUiyhe9k2RNAErIpZN0ysbxd6C6zsyZSXeU8eqYv_/s600/Watch-Dogs.mm.12x12.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="598" data-original-width="600" height="530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhdcwe0USRVlzMf0QcvKyl4YFegxbvPxL1tDvoAvy7FehGUFCG0DUBX4AOwWt511awiwFGxYFvK5aKuWOUApzLsv7ppEZgrVzZm3jlFDHkSw7vrMzAWUQa3Tsr6KwF7OQ62aqf4h9XsFUY2CslDMfeUiyhe9k2RNAErIpZN0ysbxd6C6zsyZSXeU8eqYv_/w531-h530/Watch-Dogs.mm.12x12.jpg" width="531" /></a></div>In December of last year I wrote about my friend Shirley's passing in<a href="https://hollyrobertsonepaintingatatime.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2023-02-22T12:26:00-08:00&max-results=7"> Shirley's Ride</a>. Recently, her husband, Bob, held a gathering of friends and family to remember her by. It was one of those very good memorials: people standing up around a table after having eaten a lovely lunch with their memories of Shirley, all of us describing different pieces to the puzzle that was this complicated, intelligent, and wonderful woman. Shirley had collected a number of my pieces over the years, pieces that she saw in my studio and bought so that they were never exhibited but seen only on her walls. At her memorial service I sat across from her favorite niece, Taylor Curry, who Shirley had left the bulk of my work to. And since my work is not everyone's cup of tea, I was delighted to find that Taylor was not only thrilled to have the work, but that I was as thrilled to have her be their new caretaker. Among other things, I learned that Taylor had just come back from hiking the Pacific Coast Trail--solo--five months start to finish. Shirley had found the right home for these four wonderful paintings. <br /> <p></p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-2210478200499783962023-09-26T14:49:00.000-07:002023-09-26T14:49:36.050-07:00Woman at the Beach 2017<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit5lALepNE_lyBqGB6jBNZkqTZnaVPyVdqnQcikUpltd3IAvxWAQIN264NCOccrDHo3J1TdYeb_VRqRNlWYpDNZBFg8TWWnLNN7RmztNva4sZCIJXovK1GlxPstSNb297gnBjJtm6MY0duNBtDc4tkDkIACh172cY3hg0d6JfTCytykVXGPEqSt7IzX31r/s800/Woman-at-the-Beach.12x16.mm.2017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="593" data-original-width="800" height="441" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit5lALepNE_lyBqGB6jBNZkqTZnaVPyVdqnQcikUpltd3IAvxWAQIN264NCOccrDHo3J1TdYeb_VRqRNlWYpDNZBFg8TWWnLNN7RmztNva4sZCIJXovK1GlxPstSNb297gnBjJtm6MY0duNBtDc4tkDkIACh172cY3hg0d6JfTCytykVXGPEqSt7IzX31r/w596-h441/Woman-at-the-Beach.12x16.mm.2017.jpg" width="596" /></a></div><br />Although I did this piece in 2017, I thought it was more appropriate for the current year, 2023, most probably the <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/climate-environment/2023/08/08/2023-is-track-be-hottest-year-record/">hottest year ever recorded</a>. In this painting, there is no place for her to hide from the oppressive heat and the ever present sun. The woman is tattooed with marks from the sun, and her sunglasses and swim suit are all that protect her. Although waves crash in the background, they are distant and only serve to underscore just how hot it is for our lady, standing alone on the hot, dry, sand in her strangely inappropriate red shoes. <br /><p></p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-2596387168458863942023-08-23T20:46:00.000-07:002023-08-23T20:46:03.109-07:00Yellow Elephant 2023<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH0wq7_knp93R_zp4N0Xv3pDFB_UtGMlo-GNSVIW_KEpCqHxPbnkOay20tJbAmO9xrUCGCYDclaJ6rMX6QZoQkf3-mIAKcUIVouMIlUJPtzaaUVdTJd8WQLUwpwct_8VHOIJfr5jqunlgBUVJCllwyD7W3lwz9ZuD9zKadQlf01HsexuEnzXLXuEnqk8Dg/s800/yellow-elephant.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="660" data-original-width="800" height="443" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH0wq7_knp93R_zp4N0Xv3pDFB_UtGMlo-GNSVIW_KEpCqHxPbnkOay20tJbAmO9xrUCGCYDclaJ6rMX6QZoQkf3-mIAKcUIVouMIlUJPtzaaUVdTJd8WQLUwpwct_8VHOIJfr5jqunlgBUVJCllwyD7W3lwz9ZuD9zKadQlf01HsexuEnzXLXuEnqk8Dg/w537-h443/yellow-elephant.jpg" width="537" /></a></div><br />For almost a year now I haven't painted. Many things are contributing to this, but one of the main issues is that, at 71, I have too many stored paintings. I lay awake at night trying to figure out what to do with these 600 babies that never fully fledged. It's a strange place for any artist to be: our identities come with what we make, it's who we are, and what we do. More than that, making is something bigger than us, more important and what connects us to what matters. Most artists of my generation, or older, are grappling with this. If we are lucky, the work is wanted, either sold or donated to Museums and art centers that will care for the art. But if we aren't so lucky, our heirs end up having big yard sales, give aways, or dropping the work off at thrift stores. <p></p><p>Part of the way I've been combating this is to make work that lives in my computer. Using Photoshop or, new to me, Affinity, I use my photos as the foundation for the image that is to follow. In this case, an old black and white photograph of a life sized paper mache baby elephant taken 40 years ago that I added to and deleted from, the image reminding me of just how difficult it is to deal with the process of aging.<br /></p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-37023085043933786572023-06-26T16:47:00.003-07:002023-06-26T17:04:00.269-07:00Dummy Deer 2023<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkNfe413JfjlsaryRnktZEf4ww7eYmrbGGfA6TohyT7M2hN2khP_5CapjFqy4CW3d-VU4_M-xjrIzPVttx2l7EONvNMdMhL4FsUz9ZeV_WDrV1Dh2IJ3zX8xNGSQzwhjf5a6tzOEhUuwuMG51KpR-JI4ds8vV7xAal51141aXlZDs4uJUv5J1Z9jOWivJs/s800/dummy-deer..jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="642" data-original-width="800" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkNfe413JfjlsaryRnktZEf4ww7eYmrbGGfA6TohyT7M2hN2khP_5CapjFqy4CW3d-VU4_M-xjrIzPVttx2l7EONvNMdMhL4FsUz9ZeV_WDrV1Dh2IJ3zX8xNGSQzwhjf5a6tzOEhUuwuMG51KpR-JI4ds8vV7xAal51141aXlZDs4uJUv5J1Z9jOWivJs/w525-h422/dummy-deer..jpg" width="525" /></a></div>While staying in a friend's guest house in Colorado recently, I discovered a dismantled "dummy deer" in a corner of the garage. One leg was unattached and he was leaning against the wall, full of marks where he had been shot at, I assume, by a bow and arrow. Aside from the detached leg, the antlers were also unattached, so I put him back together, took him outside, leaned him against the garage door, and photographed him. Besides the marks made from the target practice, there were also lines delineating his heart and lungs, which I assume would be the "kill shots" on a real deer. <p></p><p>I took the images into Photoshop, took them apart and then put him back together, emphasizing the marks made from the practice shots. There was something sad and surreal about working with this not real, but still beautiful animal, knowing his sole purpose was in being a target for people practicing to kill live deer, aiming for the square markings on his side that would come closest to killing them. The dummy deer had such dignity and composure, seemingly unaware of his tragic purpose as a kind of "Judas"deer.<br /></p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-25844424740227971982023-05-21T16:28:00.001-07:002023-05-21T16:48:20.427-07:00Man Kneeling 2016<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_xNUMYPAnjqzftfQUJCuy1vNVlv7QxnRC4jr8pte-P2jG_o1yv7QVGiRAgGVuaNPvxKZxHdTekHQ0TyRLkMVODtQ_MPvsxPJn1hobDJghIdaK9IoYMZwoaPDtwKUylUqhOZI1ndY8nAt_7mu-w2-9xOn79Tk8H9ocF5OIFZt1701ICwWE4g0_2bFSIw/s800/Man-Kneeling.acrylic.24x24.2016.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="790" height="629" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_xNUMYPAnjqzftfQUJCuy1vNVlv7QxnRC4jr8pte-P2jG_o1yv7QVGiRAgGVuaNPvxKZxHdTekHQ0TyRLkMVODtQ_MPvsxPJn1hobDJghIdaK9IoYMZwoaPDtwKUylUqhOZI1ndY8nAt_7mu-w2-9xOn79Tk8H9ocF5OIFZt1701ICwWE4g0_2bFSIw/w620-h629/Man-Kneeling.acrylic.24x24.2016.jpg" width="620" /></a></div><p><i> <b>Automatic writing</b>, also called <b>psychography</b>, is a claimed <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_psychic_abilities" title="List of psychic abilities">psychic ability</a>
allowing a person to produce written words without consciously writing.
Practitioners engage in automatic writing by holding a writing
instrument and allowing alleged spirits to manipulate the practitioner's
hand. The instrument may be a standard writing instrument, or it may be
one specially designed for automatic writing, such as a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Planchette" title="Planchette">planchette</a> or a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ouija" title="Ouija">ouija</a> board.</i> *Wikipedia <br /></p><p>Although I didn't use an ouija board, I like to think of this style of painting as "Autonomic". I start by covering the entire surface of a panel with acrylic paint. Then, while the paint is wet, after having dipped my bush into black India ink, I start a line drawing. The process demands that I begin with an empty mind(never an easy accomplishment) since I don't know what the drawing is to be until the lines start to reveal themselves. If I make an error, or don't like a particular part of the drawing, then I have to start over, repainting the entire background over the wet ink lines.The process is both physically and emotionally taxing. The paint dries quickly, so I have a small window of time to work in, and if any part of the drawing doesn't work I have to, essentially, begin again with only a faint idea of what came before--all this with an empty mind! There is no erasing or correcting because any added lines or erasures after it dries change the entire surface of the painting. But, the smudges and smears of the first, second, or third drawings make the surface that much richer and juicier even as I bemoan the loss of the drawing as I cover it over with new paint.<br /></p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-81277627929952453902023-04-30T17:50:00.000-07:002023-04-30T17:50:04.242-07:00Green Pony 2023<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0M1mOZxByHectIofQfPXAxOL5QC46INSeg3vVRFtF248iYZ20kUncUFKDYDsRNeZ7_zMH7A8KyX36OnofrTo_0-fG5S8yXOFMrXrvW9f49J4hI558iBdAMKhAveaAppmMshUdZSSN0Xo5ctgQbEYq_wwb6qYbf_zuApFaIJbXbZs5szQO5Mmhq8tOeg/s800/green-pony.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="542" height="467" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0M1mOZxByHectIofQfPXAxOL5QC46INSeg3vVRFtF248iYZ20kUncUFKDYDsRNeZ7_zMH7A8KyX36OnofrTo_0-fG5S8yXOFMrXrvW9f49J4hI558iBdAMKhAveaAppmMshUdZSSN0Xo5ctgQbEYq_wwb6qYbf_zuApFaIJbXbZs5szQO5Mmhq8tOeg/w317-h467/green-pony.jpg" width="317" /></a></div><br />I purchased a Wacom tablet to help me create better images in my computer, but it turns out I like drawing with my bar of soap aka the mouse better. Working with a mouse and a screen is difficult for me, with almost no fluidity. When an image does appear, it comes in fits and starts, coming and going, sometimes with my permission, sometimes not. The layers of Photoshop are always jumping around, so as I'm working on one layer, some little demon pops up and shifts everything around. I'm also plagued by using a very old version of Photoshop, so that when something goes wrong I don't know if its me or if it's cranky old CS4. However, something does seem to be happening. I'm slowly beginning to gather the vocabulary and familiarity with the tools in PS to be able to make images that have their own life and their own idea of where they want to go. The brushes are beginning to make sense, and more than that, the results are fun and often times, unexpected. The colors are wild and wonderful. As their clumsy conduit, the images are starting to tell me what they need and, more importantly, what they don't, and, as always, I'm listening. <p></p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-62947017576651433022023-04-16T16:52:00.000-07:002023-04-16T16:52:17.659-07:00Demon Head Smoking 2015<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIwLra0y3ZRkATH4kgwyFcBWaSMTIF8JAG5P7uUt4Y2RYzBQ6BEkAPg2U_RtnXU58I0AAJc06c9tb5NvJ-vnDVcBevzXO7wtcCzsTgLNNC85zqrp424jYB_pyN6zHr-03u77rbkiOBezzbH6htSjr8QJadjq4Ynl5BRa2W43cernbTZs9vPeG5LGU_eA/s800/Demon-Head-Smoking.2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" height="357" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIwLra0y3ZRkATH4kgwyFcBWaSMTIF8JAG5P7uUt4Y2RYzBQ6BEkAPg2U_RtnXU58I0AAJc06c9tb5NvJ-vnDVcBevzXO7wtcCzsTgLNNC85zqrp424jYB_pyN6zHr-03u77rbkiOBezzbH6htSjr8QJadjq4Ynl5BRa2W43cernbTZs9vPeG5LGU_eA/w536-h357/Demon-Head-Smoking.2015.jpg" width="536" /></a></div><br />I use Adobe Photoshop on a daily basis, but that's not to say I'm any good at it. I've taken lots of classes, but the problem is that, if you don't use what you've learned, POOF, it's gone, or at least gone from my very right brained mind .An instructor of mine compared PS to a very big, complex city, but that the only way to learn to get about in that city is to learn your immediate neighborhood, and go from there. My PS neighborhood is about one block square and I only go out to the corner store for eggs, milk, and bread. With this in mind, in 2015, I went about trying to make my neighborhood a little bigger. I started making images in Photoshop, in the computer, not painting, cutting and pasting onto panels as I'd always done. The learning curve was huge, and my neck and shoulders would be frozen by the end of a four hour or longer work period. I "drew" with my mouse, which is like drawing with a bar of soap, and at the same time learned about these magical "brushes" that would make strange and fabulous marks. I had to learn to use layers, and not to forget which layer I was on as I stumbled along. The one thing that was the same was the use of my photos. I would always start these images with a photograph underneath, and then, just as always, I would use the interaction of photoshop and the under lying photo to build the image. These images live in the computer, and when they exist outside of the computer, they are seen as archival pigment prints, with small edition sizes. I stopped doing them because the world didn't seem very interested, but I do love them--quirky, strange--a wonderful combination of skill and blunder.<br /><p></p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-39302041070248368142023-02-22T12:26:00.000-08:002023-02-22T12:26:49.349-08:00Man at the Table 1995<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9WCCdj0xAliAXI_X1bZptF1_KOHyWz877w0JUW45omIMo46wP1Pizf87fVr8JKp-jreKa-b1_XEXDqLa7AQd7_Rk6P48D8FGwjoqNYfScDwgl7XyK9yKgF4gjZ_UcSj8pbcxN6ZBGJJ9swZTvwZTHOVGYTSBCxwNBNl_RTK8Sa5sTszFkF6QSK_jUlw/s11968/Man-at-The-Table.osp.48x72.1995_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="8128" data-original-width="11968" height="379" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9WCCdj0xAliAXI_X1bZptF1_KOHyWz877w0JUW45omIMo46wP1Pizf87fVr8JKp-jreKa-b1_XEXDqLa7AQd7_Rk6P48D8FGwjoqNYfScDwgl7XyK9yKgF4gjZ_UcSj8pbcxN6ZBGJJ9swZTvwZTHOVGYTSBCxwNBNl_RTK8Sa5sTszFkF6QSK_jUlw/w559-h379/Man-at-The-Table.osp.48x72.1995_1.jpg" width="559" /></a></div>I have been going through my work updating images of the older pieces I have. Originally I shot slides(Kodachrome), and did the best I could using a black cloth as a backdrop and natural light. As I slowly entered the digital world, I learned to shoot digitally and to use Photoshop but I had 20 years of slides that had to be scanned and then transferred into my computer. It's these images that I am re-shooting now, 30 years later..<br /><p></p><p>It's been an interesting journey for me, revisiting these older images. I have been absolutely astonished at their power and beauty--their strength and complexity. "Man at the Table" was made during the Bosnian war, and was about the "peace negotiations" which were ongoing and never ending. Everyday we would watch images on the TV of the violence, the destruction and the atrocities between the Bosnians and the Serbs. And now, sadly, almost 30 years later, the same horrific images are filling our screens with the war in the Ukraine. This image, unfortunately, is still timely. <br /></p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-14271701749630978302023-02-06T16:02:00.000-08:002023-02-06T16:02:11.886-08:00Story: Real or Not so Much 2023<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-fd6xzPubZKe2kGnMdpkyoTV2_PD45Lmn_f4okk8bSluWBckDasSCTGAt8Xa1OSqyrNZ5vM8k88tWgXTYrD9gE3SEDSR-WOI0O8jOkkbOPSbTtMqbsL5VChyO8cJRvkuNRkeNkDt5CP9dFXmVGkD8yTA1LSNqAQNGTTZYXtGUHDCzZXdQg1eeAV3E_g/s720/real%20or%20not%20so%20much.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="480" height="453" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-fd6xzPubZKe2kGnMdpkyoTV2_PD45Lmn_f4okk8bSluWBckDasSCTGAt8Xa1OSqyrNZ5vM8k88tWgXTYrD9gE3SEDSR-WOI0O8jOkkbOPSbTtMqbsL5VChyO8cJRvkuNRkeNkDt5CP9dFXmVGkD8yTA1LSNqAQNGTTZYXtGUHDCzZXdQg1eeAV3E_g/w302-h453/real%20or%20not%20so%20much.jpg" width="302" /></a></div><p style="text-align: left;"> <span style="font-size: 16.0pt;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span><span><span style="font-size: small;"> "The Bear", Douglas McDonald, 7"x10" 1st place</span><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt;"><span><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span> </span>Story: </span>Real—Or Not So Much</span>
</p><p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">Juror’s Statement</span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">Holly Roberts</span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">January 20, 2023</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"> For four days I lived with 635 entries for the juried show, “Story: Real-or not so
Much”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Each morning and each afternoon, </span>I would go over the entries numerous
times, each time eliminating more artists from the mix and a<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">t night I would dream about the images. </span>My goal was to select 60 wall pieces and 4
sculptures because this is what the gallery had room for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The process was blind—meaning I didn’t know
the names of the artists—to help me be as objective as possible in choosing the
work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having been on both sides of the
fence with this process before, both as artist and as juror, I knew how hard it
would be to receive the “unfortunately…” letter, and I also knew that the job
of choosing was completely my personal vision in what I felt to be outstanding
art. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I had a few rough rules:
no more than one piece by each artist and anything that I felt that was sweet,
or cute, or too pretty was out. What I wanted in this show was work that was
fun to look at, that was beautifully crafted, honest in its intent, and
professionally presented.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was thrilled
by the end result: a show that, while curated with my sensibilities, is far reaching in its scope. Because of the diversity of the work that the title
of the call, “Story: Real—or not so Much”, pulled in, it allowed for just about anything. I am a
figurative artist, and because of this probably leaned more towards the
figurative, but still found wonderful abstract pieces to include. It was not an
easy task, selecting these 67 artists, but one that, at the end of the day, I
was very proud to have been a part of.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></p>
<p></p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-88306227220651592492022-12-30T14:03:00.001-08:002023-10-31T16:44:49.510-07:00Shirley's Ride 2007<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGVgexXlYgioEibsJJFjUxHgkwpUroTETNP7kveF73M2zGWe22OFL7EaFAPF7xMsohKZ9uGZsQSVUUJTDhCGOJZZghUia0Kpxl7cKuLvgF3noiBWKpxKj1d7UjuGge3S6RxfDNvti5Ipu-s9_HzCVDz4suPmBQEhdcU2AcJyPkO7blMaWK5nDGFrj7jA/s2708/Shirley's%20Ride.mm.30x60%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1364" data-original-width="2708" height="359" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGVgexXlYgioEibsJJFjUxHgkwpUroTETNP7kveF73M2zGWe22OFL7EaFAPF7xMsohKZ9uGZsQSVUUJTDhCGOJZZghUia0Kpxl7cKuLvgF3noiBWKpxKj1d7UjuGge3S6RxfDNvti5Ipu-s9_HzCVDz4suPmBQEhdcU2AcJyPkO7blMaWK5nDGFrj7jA/w715-h359/Shirley's%20Ride.mm.30x60%20copy.jpg" width="715" /></a></div><br />When we first moved back to New Mexico in 1992, I met and became good friends with one of our neighbors, most probably because we shared the same very black sense of humor. In 2007 she asked me to do a commission based on a large painting she had seen in my studio called "Mud Truck". When her father had died, her three sisters had attempted to keep her from inheriting her share of his very large estate through various means of trickery and chicanery. It didn't work, because, after a long court battle, she won. And this is what the painting is about: my neighbor, driving her cloud car with her three "pious"( but really evil) sisters in the back floating over a wasteland of bodies and trash. The car is made of clouds and trumpeting angels, the tires are teeth, the exhaust hundreds of small bodies floating away. Six signs guide her way,: a pedestrian walking sign, a stop sign, a one way sign(pointing the wrong way), a road closed sign(with graffiti), a do not pass sign, and a sign reminding us not to throw litter in this trash strewn landscape. On the side of the car is writing that says, ironically, "Love Me". The painting is all about greed, and the triumph of good over evil. She was able to use her inheritance to buy, among other things, a number of my paintings, including this one. This fall her husband called me to let me know that she had died. I wish that I would have written this blog before she passed. I know she would have loved it.<br /><p></p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-85321056533257502962022-11-30T11:12:00.000-08:002022-11-30T11:12:16.967-08:00Barefoot Riders 2013<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMhJQP5jYI-RuqM79cQH0bEKukazCPh6PK-ojaR-QT4S7QQ3vesWL-U7M_KD4ih6Cnfbxsvg7z8KcukeQ-flSl0FY7V7NuBMZR9Lk8Rp_3fk72uuSE5YWKwEKGOuGDydllX4gNqBBbllGdZ0iPjpgtBXq8FcxaxwJ_SDLR8dUv_wXwpITiIFG_f72tIQ/s800/(Girl)Barefoot-Rider.49x50_2013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="663" height="414" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMhJQP5jYI-RuqM79cQH0bEKukazCPh6PK-ojaR-QT4S7QQ3vesWL-U7M_KD4ih6Cnfbxsvg7z8KcukeQ-flSl0FY7V7NuBMZR9Lk8Rp_3fk72uuSE5YWKwEKGOuGDydllX4gNqBBbllGdZ0iPjpgtBXq8FcxaxwJ_SDLR8dUv_wXwpITiIFG_f72tIQ/w343-h414/(Girl)Barefoot-Rider.49x50_2013.jpg" width="343" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Barefoot Rider(Girl) 49"x41"</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQY02Vshu0qLe55q5-glJDB7QUSX-1LyrIuOYT60Q7DTNDCW0QH8eZxo59PTqhMyfZLz44-rp8ZaZEVP2PV_umtfLsT2IB_iasyLH0zAcegg-36W52sgc71sQIjs9qKLCnUTEkcLKdlC9Ujxh7lfUHxSnOSmnF7fDzTgCKQR109iJFR1Whn709JRfb4Q/s2841/Barefoot%20Rider(Boy)48x45.mm.2013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2841" data-original-width="2658" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQY02Vshu0qLe55q5-glJDB7QUSX-1LyrIuOYT60Q7DTNDCW0QH8eZxo59PTqhMyfZLz44-rp8ZaZEVP2PV_umtfLsT2IB_iasyLH0zAcegg-36W52sgc71sQIjs9qKLCnUTEkcLKdlC9Ujxh7lfUHxSnOSmnF7fDzTgCKQR109iJFR1Whn709JRfb4Q/w379-h406/Barefoot%20Rider(Boy)48x45.mm.2013.jpg" width="379" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Barefoot Rider(Boy) 48"x45"<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="table of figures"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="envelope address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="envelope return"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="footnote reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="line number"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="page number"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="endnote reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="endnote text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="table of authorities"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="macro"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="toa heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Closing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Message Header"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Salutation"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Date"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Block Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Hyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="FollowedHyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Plain Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="E-mail Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Top of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Bottom of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal (Web)"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Acronym"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Cite"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Code"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Definition"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Keyboard"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Preformatted"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Sample"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Typewriter"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Variable"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal Table"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="No List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Contemporary"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Elegant"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Professional"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Balloon Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" QFormat="true"
Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 5"/>
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</p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>The “Barefoot Rider</i><span style="line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">s” series is about the journeys we take in life: what
we are given to start with and what we will encounter along the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>“Barefoot Rider (Girl)”</i> is the
portrait of a young friend whose mother immigrated from Mexico.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although born and raised in the United
States, she grew up in a home with no father present, where Spanish was the
primary language, with a grandmother who didn’t speak English and a mother who
had to learn the language in order to support the family. The white horse she
is riding has shuttered eyes, letting us know that her journey has not always
been clear or easy.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">“<i>Barefoot
Rider (Boy</i>)” is also about life’s journey, in this case a young indigenous
boy with a monk’s tonsure. His mount, also white, has no bridle, and only a
whip in the boy’s hand to guide the two. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both riders and their mounts are constructed
of imagery drawn from multiple sources.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Trees, sticks and earth combine with part of a Navajo rug make up the
Girl’s horse while a cluster of flowers make the saddle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Boy and his horse are made of different
elements, including lava rocks and urban graffiti—elements somewhat harsher than
the Girl’s. By being aware of what the horses and their riders are made of,
it’s possible to see the bits and pieces of two life journeys, similar yet very
different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p></p><p style="text-align: center;"> </p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-31847775350929505972022-10-30T13:15:00.000-07:002022-10-30T13:15:44.085-07:00Rough Ride 2022<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEIB3SO65zzJJb8K3nbZi9XqjPLmHEbLxmxSJT_k8qOxBUmjPm8EkAt0LLGnkpCwNeCGiHr2UpDPi0O9s-gDUp2_xPuZshZSbjs8NFwJ1C9hiPKohYBiZ2PdI5g4CPZ0mOBGFOQH16OpZTVmmfDeSdKmbc1R-XEoaaZMOSVmQZPDt36g4_ZJ4Bkjt2Vw/s3553/rough%20ride.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2772" data-original-width="3553" height="438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEIB3SO65zzJJb8K3nbZi9XqjPLmHEbLxmxSJT_k8qOxBUmjPm8EkAt0LLGnkpCwNeCGiHr2UpDPi0O9s-gDUp2_xPuZshZSbjs8NFwJ1C9hiPKohYBiZ2PdI5g4CPZ0mOBGFOQH16OpZTVmmfDeSdKmbc1R-XEoaaZMOSVmQZPDt36g4_ZJ4Bkjt2Vw/w601-h438/rough%20ride.jpg" width="601" /></a></div>For the last four weeks, I've been teaching a six week concentration at Penland School of Craft in Penland, North Carolina. Six weeks is a long time for me to teach--I usually do one to two week workshops in different locations around the country. It is intense. We meet every weekday from 9-5 and students are expected to apply what they've learned in the first few weeks to their images, going wherever that takes them. As the students do more and more of their own work, I'm able to work as well, both for demos and to try new processes. My rule in making work in a workshop is that everything I use has to come from somewhere else--the trash, materials the students don't want, magazines, or anything I find along the way. I do have access to my photos, but only what's on my phone, nothing that I brought from home, although I did bring paint and brushes. "Rough Ride" is about teaching this long workshop while still not having quite recovered from Covid(June 6 of 2022), being older, and dealing with the various complex problems that present themselves in working with 12 very different, very emotional, and very sensitive people. In other words, artists.<br /><u><br /></u></div>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-19203362014230493902022-09-02T17:44:00.002-07:002023-02-22T11:28:49.119-08:00Mirror 1998<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHYfAcR4nH9NtbuTWyGT82cJx2P5h2ywuaWYSPOPrOXdgBPENzKvEwN2v1WyP1ZaOkylb8ntuxTYzRRmkmdWsFS6Jgcu1t0-LzzXz557fizOfqauNaw69iv0S1PTTI1vMGFTuDupCX_r3SMiwv0qrsgzfPNLP-YlHiqBW_ABzBR4BpcnffS7ZYnVeCDA/s800/Mirror.12x15.mm.1998.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="643" height="636" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHYfAcR4nH9NtbuTWyGT82cJx2P5h2ywuaWYSPOPrOXdgBPENzKvEwN2v1WyP1ZaOkylb8ntuxTYzRRmkmdWsFS6Jgcu1t0-LzzXz557fizOfqauNaw69iv0S1PTTI1vMGFTuDupCX_r3SMiwv0qrsgzfPNLP-YlHiqBW_ABzBR4BpcnffS7ZYnVeCDA/w511-h636/Mirror.12x15.mm.1998.jpg" width="511" /></a></div><br />An email came into my mailbox a week ago from a lawyer representing the estate of collectors of mine who had recently passed away. She wanted to know if I had information on "Mirror", which surprisingly I did(I'm not know for my excellent record keeping). A few days later she emailed me back to let me know that the piece was for sale at "Consignment Warehouse" in Santa Fe. She also gave me the price of the piece and suggested I could buy it back and then resell it. I had loved the piece, and after thinking long and hard and, against my better judgement, I called up the store and bought it back, driving up to Santa Fe the next day to pick it up. It was an upscale consignment store, with $4000 second hand couches and large heavy tables for much more. There was lots of "art" on the walls, most of which you would find comfortably hanging in a hotel lobby. I wandered around and looked at things, then went to pick up my piece from the front desk. The clerk had brought it out and laid it on the counter with no wrapping or any kind of protection, but it was in perfect shape. It sat there glowing at me, and then rested in the back seat of my car and did the same. I was filled with a kind of quiet joy that "Mirror" had come back home.<br /><p></p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-67628761221960579542022-09-02T17:44:00.001-07:002022-09-02T17:44:42.510-07:00Old Man Walking 2022<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiESaa4W_2M_ujiZcuVfe914kaEGyPoxxEL1fURDUA6ndFjGz36dWM3V4geIXNiGOcIvQFsIYlbvunFllwF1Q7bHdxVrYyWnFdoowIrX9IhE3-FuTjeSyELM2d3GDJsnBoErKS8clQaPuzHNXTLQ_onxyFfWsYn-xLM4b2bUSG2m0NwaIvZNrnr9o8IlQ/s800/Old-Man-Walking.24x12.mm.2022.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="404" height="581" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiESaa4W_2M_ujiZcuVfe914kaEGyPoxxEL1fURDUA6ndFjGz36dWM3V4geIXNiGOcIvQFsIYlbvunFllwF1Q7bHdxVrYyWnFdoowIrX9IhE3-FuTjeSyELM2d3GDJsnBoErKS8clQaPuzHNXTLQ_onxyFfWsYn-xLM4b2bUSG2m0NwaIvZNrnr9o8IlQ/w294-h581/Old-Man-Walking.24x12.mm.2022.jpg" width="294" /></a></div>Recently, I tried to leap onto the back of a bareback horse the way I had as a younger woman. I would stand by their left side, facing their rump, then, with a little jump, swing my right leg up over their back, catching it with my heel and then pulling myself up and over. It never failed to impress--I could do it on any horse. Imagine my horror when I went to spring onto my friend's horse to impress her and instead of my foot hooking over his back, it smacked right into the middle of his belly. He gave me a somewhat concerned look, and I tried again and again, finally succeeding, but just barely. He stood the entire time, waiting patiently for whatever dumb human thing it was that I wanted to do. I tried on another, smaller horse a year or so later, and this time couldn't get my leg over her back. I gave up after a few tries. Where the heck did those loose muscles and powerful legs of mine go? I guess, turned to sticks.<br /><p></p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-38518015356234850882022-08-07T15:56:00.000-07:002022-08-07T15:56:08.756-07:00Mother and Daughter with Small Dog Walking 2005<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEillJ6d9NCObcQNXF0016mNMfi3Z9zy2oeOXKvmXu2bvmmvdltxC-cTHx-gxCBHFr_AoAFP4y89yd0MOb1i5LA6_1BWrb8hcn6KLXMMRLnyA0Lqq5t0lZNsA9VYG9II3rS0EXReAv-mTuyndLz8ueZFF_DQUB60fsApBleo0MbyYxS0JH8s5nTAYTzYmQ/s2376/Mother%20and%20Daughter%20w.Small%20Dog%20Walking.mm.jpg.lg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1824" data-original-width="2376" height="463" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEillJ6d9NCObcQNXF0016mNMfi3Z9zy2oeOXKvmXu2bvmmvdltxC-cTHx-gxCBHFr_AoAFP4y89yd0MOb1i5LA6_1BWrb8hcn6KLXMMRLnyA0Lqq5t0lZNsA9VYG9II3rS0EXReAv-mTuyndLz8ueZFF_DQUB60fsApBleo0MbyYxS0JH8s5nTAYTzYmQ/w602-h463/Mother%20and%20Daughter%20w.Small%20Dog%20Walking.mm.jpg.lg.jpg" width="602" /></a></div><br />In 2005 when I made this little painting my daughters were 12 and 9. Now they are 35 and 32, grown with their own lives, the elder daughter married with a two year old son, and the younger daughter soon to be married. The mother is walking into what seems to be a rough and rocky landscape with a bleakly overcast sky, holding the daughter's hand, the dog following close behind, as good dogs will do. I didn't know then what was to come, what would happen to those two dearly loved daughters, only that we were going forward into the future with courage and the belief that things would work out. What is to come is still unknown, and now, with grandchildren, it still seems the same: we will continue to go forward as a family, hoping that love and courage will take us where we need to go.<br /><p></p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-36087532206733851802022-07-05T16:23:00.000-07:002022-07-05T16:23:52.972-07:00Woman with Worries 2022<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzxYXe4RVQIIZ3R3n1D6irlLL7cYwGlrGfldzctkSItOvt9-LdM4L4hjevokoIP6kRyp1my8ZVPUaizeH7UyskTGFr3yaCMr4EVgnaG33f4UcznsmkkYEJ4nqoy8bQXaJgjrpJXxIgHQjFzaIRgDKUOMNnVVrz6eo6X9nMFyuCnvZ5Sk1abRZGMYNNNw/s3661/me.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3661" data-original-width="2671" height="502" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzxYXe4RVQIIZ3R3n1D6irlLL7cYwGlrGfldzctkSItOvt9-LdM4L4hjevokoIP6kRyp1my8ZVPUaizeH7UyskTGFr3yaCMr4EVgnaG33f4UcznsmkkYEJ4nqoy8bQXaJgjrpJXxIgHQjFzaIRgDKUOMNnVVrz6eo6X9nMFyuCnvZ5Sk1abRZGMYNNNw/w366-h502/me.jpg" width="366" /></a></div><p></p>So much to worry about, so little time. Big problems like a terrible, senseless war that doesn't seem like it will ever end, bad forest fires in your back yard. A country so divided that you count your friends by the party they voted for, and you make snarly faces when you meet someone who voted for the other party. You have a grandson in Texas, and the Uvalde shootings suddenly seem very close. The old person chute that you started sliding down not so long ago is going faster and faster, and you know you can't get off or slow it down. Friends your age and younger, have dementia. At first you were alarmed but now it's becoming common place(this after many of your parents and your friend's parents have died with this awful disease), and you worry that you will be next. The specter of covid hangs over everything, and even though you just got it, you know you aren't really safe anymore as the variants spread like wildfire: vaxed and boosted seeming to make no difference. There seems too be no silver lining to any of the dark clouds looming on the horizon, and the lightening strikes keep getting closer and closer.<br />Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-61597503040540187982022-05-13T16:07:00.000-07:002022-05-13T16:07:56.696-07:00Coyote Watching 2021<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Noqgrsb9lnylqCVgF_FDaDesgIKHJK4-bvEy5OS2inaMEoi5K9bvxJsDLI5WzWnu-b1j1034y_nBBxLFcG60fFvlmJspOhUrzTRiN7jYA_bS6Gq8U2R2eQqmPjs1umf3Qnx3NAkANJg_IpAA_NfPx_pXjI4_el5Z34oOVEHZMsxolEa5jbRV8QT7mA/s805/Coyote-Watching.12x12.mm.2021.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="805" height="472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Noqgrsb9lnylqCVgF_FDaDesgIKHJK4-bvEy5OS2inaMEoi5K9bvxJsDLI5WzWnu-b1j1034y_nBBxLFcG60fFvlmJspOhUrzTRiN7jYA_bS6Gq8U2R2eQqmPjs1umf3Qnx3NAkANJg_IpAA_NfPx_pXjI4_el5Z34oOVEHZMsxolEa5jbRV8QT7mA/w475-h472/Coyote-Watching.12x12.mm.2021.jpg" width="475" /></a></div><p>If I had to use just one term to define the coyotes that live around us in our semi-rural environment here in New Mexico it would be "wary". Like the murders of crows that startle and take off en-mass when I lift my camera to take a photograph, the coyotes are completely aware when I share their space. It might be a casual glance to let me know they know I'm watching, or more likely, taking off at a dead run when they see that my attention is too acute. They are so very different from dogs--their close cousins--with their noisy, unaware, and blundering ways. I so love this about them--that intelligence and awareness that lets them exist in both worlds simultaneously--that which is natural and that which isn't. <br /></p><p></p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-80955331970739243272022-04-17T18:10:00.000-07:002022-04-17T18:10:14.038-07:00Rabbit Running (with Blue Feet) 2022<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM2nmeJ0hgZLr9OgssmVUMbMQQU3Ow8ILwIRRtYuI7cNpyzl0NYBILVzU8ul3yAg_TJ_S40wXa4957SXJZ2_19LBq78NInc52Geogf7TZkBRfMFuAkeZYeuLUzU08kMBxwM_m0QU8urdQmwTUugMnPGah60PZoWg17aItAlVoefljOe4MwTAjq1-deeQ/s800/Rabbit-Running(with-Blue-Feet).24x12.mm.2022.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="400" height="560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM2nmeJ0hgZLr9OgssmVUMbMQQU3Ow8ILwIRRtYuI7cNpyzl0NYBILVzU8ul3yAg_TJ_S40wXa4957SXJZ2_19LBq78NInc52Geogf7TZkBRfMFuAkeZYeuLUzU08kMBxwM_m0QU8urdQmwTUugMnPGah60PZoWg17aItAlVoefljOe4MwTAjq1-deeQ/w280-h560/Rabbit-Running(with-Blue-Feet).24x12.mm.2022.jpg" width="280"></a></div><p>We share our outdoor space with cottontail rabbits. They are, to quote the cliche, adorable, with their large floppy ears, beautiful soft grey fur, and big, dark, liquid eyes. However, I don't think much of them. Nothing like starting out your day swerving off the road to avoid hitting a rabbit, or worse yet, actually hitting and killing or maiming one. They are fast and can weave and dodge like nobody's business, but it
doesn't help when you are being "chased" by a car, and blinded by it's
headlights. I watch in fascination when I take my two small dogs for a walk, and they present themselves with no fear just a few feet away. "If I'm just still enough, they won't see me". Not smart, not when you're a prey animal and one of the two little dogs happens to be a rat terrier. But, there they are for me to photograph, hiding, frozen in the grass (although not really being hidden), or squished on the road, eyes glazing over when I get to them, pulling my camera out to photograph their not too long dead, somewhat flattened, bodies. But perhaps in the big picture, as you are dinner to a host of other animals, and although lovely to look at, it's probably best that you're not the sharpest tack in the box.</p><p><br></p><p></p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-11733794857999479362022-04-07T15:17:00.004-07:002022-04-07T15:20:19.597-07:00Coyote Father & Coyote Mother (with Clouds and Rain) 2021<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYhVkD54KxHwCvuuoM7PzNh6tEoc5xfmYRmZWyUJ0t-7Txsbzpw0i-synA1MKD_sf2BScOVEmtZ00E3yIJ8Ns2PbxUQQ8gCjhAoE3c_jmIq_v4LHsSfYyUP49zoQgmCgDCpKtLiiT4up9txL8uXxNpw-oCt7nmAhT0zDdtPDFUdRZ-FhtoBRgCl8gO1g/s800/Coyote-Father(with-Clouds-and-Rain).36x24.mm.2021.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="526" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYhVkD54KxHwCvuuoM7PzNh6tEoc5xfmYRmZWyUJ0t-7Txsbzpw0i-synA1MKD_sf2BScOVEmtZ00E3yIJ8Ns2PbxUQQ8gCjhAoE3c_jmIq_v4LHsSfYyUP49zoQgmCgDCpKtLiiT4up9txL8uXxNpw-oCt7nmAhT0zDdtPDFUdRZ-FhtoBRgCl8gO1g/w297-h452/Coyote-Father(with-Clouds-and-Rain).36x24.mm.2021.jpg" width="297" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p style="text-align: center;">Coyote Father(with Clouds and Rain)<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhajfoouwlB0FoFyMnjZykYQ1F4tx2y6X-_uBgUrtLS25VWiZAc-T2UgjcLpFPBC2lQMUA-u0_vM7DZOxhPlhcHjhWS5F_VUhWlKTaPBkGKf9o-YtGnbNiSfknHBeLCHcn2lTXaEHUhXUADVsnB_U5uiagdFIiHaT2AMdf04DZq18Bae58GlCS1c635gg/s800/Coyote-Mother(with-Rain-and-Clouds).36x24.mm.2021.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="534" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhajfoouwlB0FoFyMnjZykYQ1F4tx2y6X-_uBgUrtLS25VWiZAc-T2UgjcLpFPBC2lQMUA-u0_vM7DZOxhPlhcHjhWS5F_VUhWlKTaPBkGKf9o-YtGnbNiSfknHBeLCHcn2lTXaEHUhXUADVsnB_U5uiagdFIiHaT2AMdf04DZq18Bae58GlCS1c635gg/w285-h425/Coyote-Mother(with-Rain-and-Clouds).36x24.mm.2021.jpg" width="285" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">Coyote Mother(with Rain and Clouds)<br /></p><p style="text-align: left;">I know that coyotes are in the pasture behind our house when our two small dogs begin their shrill, constant, hysterical barking, running up and down alongside the fence(on our side), hackles up, ears pricked, vicious threats hurled across the wire at the coyotes. The coyotes trot casually along, paying the little dogs no mind(although we all know they would love to have either both or one of these small dogs as a midday snack). One day one of these coyotes stayed in the field for a very long time, mostly laying down. She was there for the better part of the day, and I didn't know if she was ill or perhaps getting ready to have pups. I took my camera out every hour or so and took hundreds of photographs of her across the fence, laying in the grass, or moving from place to place. Afterward, from studying the photos, I got to know her well, her face, her markings, her movements. She was the pasture, she was nature, she was part of something I existed on the outskirts of. She was a wild thing that let me into her life for the briefest bit of time. </p><p style="text-align: center;"> </p><p> </p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-71386248752885310382022-03-22T08:29:00.004-07:002022-09-02T17:46:33.099-07:00Horse Grazing 2020<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNOtLekJBaYb_utGgLqc3YHk738jfV0l38msX9Wwejtpw5Mrvb-Tg9u9chXByC5RL5F00KSBGxXGVBcMi_52QIkuQJELsjIRb7WyC3o6cxheqp2DHGuloZvNWimJZYGvvs6VN9ion5Rxqal3x72yzAeZQEAYFuXHP_cL791cnhfLOU1pRZNYp4mXPYbA/s800/Horse-Grazing.34.75x51.5.mm.2020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="542" data-original-width="800" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNOtLekJBaYb_utGgLqc3YHk738jfV0l38msX9Wwejtpw5Mrvb-Tg9u9chXByC5RL5F00KSBGxXGVBcMi_52QIkuQJELsjIRb7WyC3o6cxheqp2DHGuloZvNWimJZYGvvs6VN9ion5Rxqal3x72yzAeZQEAYFuXHP_cL791cnhfLOU1pRZNYp4mXPYbA/w614-h416/Horse-Grazing.34.75x51.5.mm.2020.jpg" width="614" /></a></div><br /> <br /><p></p><p> In February of 2020 I was brought back into the world of horses through a series of coincidences. I found myself with a new set of friends that included two horses, two Sheltie dogs, and two transplanted South Africans. Although I had been familiar with horses for as long as I could remember, it still took me some time to get used to being around them again. Their size, the power, and their unpredictability all induced quite a bit of anxiety in me when I would first enter the corral. They were big guys and one of the horses, Stormy, was young, just four when I started riding him. His galloping around the corral at full speed and his wild bucks when I went to catch him were simultaneously thrilling and terrifying. As the time went by, I still felt the same cautious concern when I entered their space, but it grew less and less, and now, it's pretty much gone. The opposite feeling to that anxiety is the feeling I get when I am around them when they are grazing. Their precise, careful steps, their big powerful teeth cropping the grass as they slowly move forward, and their quiet, calm presence is a soporific for me, giving me the unspoken feeling that all is, and will continue to be, okay. This painting, quite large, was an attempt to capture that peace and calm.<br /></p><p> </p>Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2517043060746292743.post-72391300081445609432022-03-16T19:24:00.000-07:002022-03-16T19:24:19.870-07:00A Life 2020<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxNZtqr4PdwCN_jEg6TZkCg5Gc4_QB2ui4y48l--81cVhhUFxw8g2D_L_7DdJyM6rvS1bZ8Tk6Yqklresluug' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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My mother died in October of 2019, and I recently put this little video together of her life. It helped me, among other things, to see the entire arc of her life and not just those last ten years as she began her slow slide into dementia.Holly Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525791383128749581noreply@blogger.com0