gardens of hope
My work is conceptually based on the intersection of the natural world, my personal gardens and the effects of climate change. I take photographs of flowers and ginkgo leaves and with various apps on my iPad, I alter the images. Through this lens of technology, I mimic what is essentially taking place in our world.
I contrast the measured symmetry, and recently, deconstructed layers of my computer-assisted designs with painterly, atmospheric layers of paint. I revel in color, undulating form and alluring textures. I celebrate the paint and tangible aspects of color. My flowers are beautiful, but they are monsters, contemporary, biomorphic Frankensteins. They are designed to seduce the viewer and lure them in, just like our dependency on fossil fuels, phones, tablets, and computers do. They are intended to be snares. Just like the climate crisis, they do not look dangerous because they are beautiful.
That’s part of the problem I believe, we cannot see climate change. The landscape is still beautiful, my yard is lush and dripping with Spanish moss, just like my work home, the campus of Spring Hill College. The view out my window at work is like a postcard. Everything looks beautiful, just like it always has but it’s different now, it’s scary now.
We only pay attention when the house is on fire. I obsessively paint my monster flowers and hope, hope for change, hope for solutions. Hope for everyone’s children. My paintings are my primordial silent scream.