Pine Needles . . . Arrival
I am embarking on a 3.5 week of near solitude at an artist residency at Pine Needles Research Station in Minnesota, affiliated with the Minneosta Science Museum.
Approaching the cabin means navigating slowly down a steep, narrow, twisting drive -- a quarter mile long. Snaking through massive old pines, slender black ash(!), maples, oaks,and thick diagonals of immense decaying trunks of trees fallen --time already is slowing down.
Springs, which seem to be everywhere, gush in small cascades down the slope hissing through the silence.
Perched on a limestone cliff overlooking the St. Croix River, floor to ceiling windows open to the habitat of the great blue heron who fish in the shallow waters near the flooded islands dividing the river's flow.
The weeks and years prior to now have been a whirlwind of opportunities filled with grants, group and solo exhibitions, painting commissions, teaching, and more. While I am intensely grateful for all of these opportunities, I often described this time as an ever running treadmill fueled by deadlines. Each day passed with long hours in my studio, too little time with my husband and with nature.
Knowing that I soon would have a respite, the last few weeks rushed by (along with my feet, head and hands) as I finished another commission, along with a few new pieces for "Swept Away," a two person exhibition with Aaron Laux which opens in September.
My promise to myself was to take this time at Pine Needles as a time of obeservation, reflection, experimentation, and slowness.
Be Here Now.
I will update this blog every few days as time and my mood prescribe