Cubana Conversation 1979 or before

Most recently, good friends of mine are moving to be closer to their family and are down sizing.  They have been friends for over 40 years and had collected more than 25 of my images, some of them going back to my first years as an artist, in my early 20's.  They decided to keep 11 of those 25, and then asked me if I would take the rest.  I agreed, and drove home with a car full-o-art.  Once I got home, I began to try and figure out what to do, hoping that I could donate most to NM museums.  In the process I found myself frustrated with young Holly, who didn't see things like writing down dates or titles being particularly important. I kept all in my head at that time, and didn't see the need, since it was all right there. As well, I documented all my work using slides, and often the quality was not very good(I was learning).  But what was most interesting in looking through and cataloging the work, was seeing this time capsule of my life and progress as an artist.  "Cubana Conversation" was done when I worked at Tamarind Institute in the early 70s.  Printed in an edition of 17, I printed it myself on Tamarind presses after hours.  And lastly, to visibly see and appreciate the the support of these friends, who over the 40 years of our friendship, consistently believed in me and my vision.

Headed South 2005

For the past day, I've been looking for an image in my photo archives and haven't been able to find it.  However, looking through my images, as I've gone back through the years (from 2005-2009),  I've  been filled with wonder and delight. In some years I did up to 75 images, other years I seemed to average around 60. Most of the images have to do with something going wrong, or wrongish. Relationships, angels, birds, snakes, figures smoking cigarettes, all made from photographic bits and pieces of other things, all telling a story of some kind or another.  There is a spiritual sense to much of this work, a kind of witnessing of of the "other", whatever that other is. In looking at the images, I feel about the them now as I did when I made them. I know that the me that sits here now is not the me that made the images, but some other mysterious personage that shows up when I start to work, forcing "me" to give up control, pulling all the strings, and making all the decisions. 

Doe 2025

According to Hypnoticgate.com when a deer crosses your path it's not just coincidence, but a profound moment filled with symbolism and meaning. Who knew?  

 

 

Guard Dog(Abby) 2025

My mother suffered from dementia for the last 10 years of her life, through her eighties, dying just short of her ninety-first birthday.  Up until the last year she lived alone with her dog Abby. My two siblings and I did as much as we could to allow her to keep living by herself in her little house. My sister managed her finances from afar, my brother visited her every Sunday to hike and take care of things, and I called everyday to check in.  However, it was her dog, Abby, that really gave her life the most meaning.  A border collie rescue, Abby was Mom’s shadow. She was my mother’s very best friend-non judgmental and always present, never saying “You already told me that!”.  She also took advantage of mom, ferociously protecting her and nearly pulling her off her feet by yanking the leash when other dogs would get too close, and convincing my mother that she always needed more food since Mom couldn’t remember if she had fed her or not.  All seemed fine and then it wasn’t. Abby seemed lethargic for a few days and then quietly went out into the back yard and died, still a relatively young dog. Of course, Mom was heartbroken. She followed Abby that fall.

Child Dreaming 1993

I recently received this email message.  Back in 1999 or so I attended a Natalie Goldberg writing workshop in Taos, and you were a guest speaker. I was moved by your talk and your work, and purchased one of your paintings over a pinhole camera image -- a child's face, sleeping, with a coyote or wolf. It was among my favorites and sadly lost in the recent LA fires. The email broke my heart.  Not for the loss of this wonderful painting, but for the family that lost everything in the fire, one of thousands.  The painting seems almost a portent of what was to come, even though it was painted some 35 years ago: the sleeping child's face, the smokey haze of danger that lurks just beyond the dream. 

Grey Horse Walking 2025

For me, there is a kind of existential loneliness in this painting. The circular motion of the background suggests a storm, while the small clouds building above the mare give a quiet sense of foreboding.  Her head seems stoic-resigned-while her body, made partially from photographs, dictionary pages and painted paper, seems contradictory, but in fact, adds to that sense of disjointed separateness.

 

Deer Watching 2024

Lately I’ve been talking, thinking, and reading about consciousness, especially as it applies to animals.  From what I understand, consciousness is everywhere and it’s only our ability to connect with it that allows us to experience that consciousness.  I feel as if I have a screen that keeps me from connecting to that consciousness—sometimes thinner and sometimes thicker.  When I build these images I feel that I am making that screen thinner, and the materials that I have to form the heads and bodies of my animals gives me that connection.