hours and hours upon centuries and centuries

Through dedicated time, a lot of it, like hours and centuries of it, some paintings and prints are birthed. Time passes, eyes and curiosities come to meet them. With wind, minds, and hands, they shift. As spores, they fly and meet each other, they connect with you and me. An invitation is ignited, a conscious silence. These man made works are not stagnant. They are green like moss, blue like water, red like fire. An illusion of familiarity and safety. On a geological scale, a millisecond passes, but seasons have come and gone and somehow they are all present.

The work summons interconnectedness in a cry. Intimacy created with intention. Slow stories that put the collection of stories into perspective.

This space becomes a call to pause, a space for individual remembering and home coming. Embracing ironies, exploring tools of communication and beauty, listening to lessons from natural history.