Artist statement:
Picture a bubble in a clear mountain stream. It forms and then swirls and dances on the surface as the water cascades between boulders and over deadfalls. And then, just as quickly, it disappears. We, as human beings, are no less nor more than that bubble, and yet we almost universally accept that the thrust of our being is to leave some trace, some evidence of having been along a unique path.
I suppose that one of mine is the imagery I have captured or created. These aren’t necessarily the product of an active search, although I have been engaged in creativity since an early age and have tried to enhance my experience through formal and informal means, but what I have made an effort to sharpen and distill in everything I’ve done is knowing when to be aware of the intersection between chance, acquisition and, maybe, even fate.
With photography, that is either a well-orchestrated collision between visual and virtual elements or the concentrated effort to align with a tiny, breathless and unique moment. I don’t know if I will ever be entirely successful at that, but the joy is always in trying. And, sometimes, you simply have to accept that there are images you witness that ultimately will only be captured in the mind’s eye, like watching the pole climb on San Geronimo Feast Day silhouetted hot and elegant against a darkening thunderstorm rolling up from the south. No camera, no sketch pad. Just the eye and the memory. Nothing more.
Among many native people, the creation of art isn’t necessarily assigned a special role. Just as ancient people never thought to create a name for themselves other than a term usually translated to mean “the people,” art was and continues to be regarded as part of the spiraling cycles that constitute their role in the natural process. In my painting, I have chosen to honor the private nature of tribal spiritual beliefs because I don’t want to be part of the erosion of the values they continue to hold for the fully initiated. There is an emotional component, though, which cannot be ignored. My paintings are infused with this response. No explicit images, just the rawness of being witness to something vividly tenacious and yet delicate in its vulnerability to the effect of outside forces.
I am inside, looking out.