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title::         DOUBLE SUN
medium :: dry (soft) pastel on watercolor paper
size ::       51"x38" (~1.3M  x 1M)

Double Sun

observing the unseen / seeing the unseen is the main idea for this work.  Standing on the podium and rising above the built environment, flattened albeit reconstructed landscape, She observes the impossible.  It seems as though the land below is built out to the capacity, high risers are looming up into the sky, yet She is in her own universe above the civilization.  Background of the drawing is reminiscent of the muscle tissue which is Her physicality and her physiological support.

title::           She is Bridge
medium ::   dry (soft) pastel on watercolor paper
size ::         
51"x38" (~1.3M  x 1M)

collection::  Stanford Univ., L.L. private collection (purchased in winter 2016)


A woman of landscape
She acts as a bridge

A bridge to a steep, deep, deep canyon
A way to escape
A way to connect
To view the abstracted
And the city's landscape

She, who pulls it together
Her body & edges of earth;
She is larger than I,
She is taller than sky,
Deeper than emerald, blue grass.

SHE IS BRIDGE is about a woman laying in the landscape.  She is relaxed, yet very strong she acts as a bridge, She connects the two edges, the green flat landmasses.  Under Her there is a canyon, there are cities, the built environment, the transformed landscape.  At the left part of the art work one can see the most primitive physiological component and that is a cell. Red blood cells string up the page - they are the extension of this woman.

title::            My Blue Tires or Human Displacement
medium ::    dry (soft) pastel on watercolor paper
size ::          
51"x38" (~1.3M  x 1M)


As humans, we are flattening the grand landscape of ours by putting in/ building/ fantasizing the connectors such as roads, tunnels, bridges, airports. 
    In human history as we learn it there was a cabin, and then there were two, then there were 10, then there was a village, then there was a town, and a city, then a megopolis... We have to build roads in order to build more and conncet the hubs  and all connecting points. 
     For hundreds of miles into the atmosphere the connecting points glow into the darkness, and so do some of the brightest connectors.  They all glow with the golden mesmerizing light, but the tires that travel upon the extended and bruised landscape give off a hard to grasnp blue feel.  Tires are blue.  They carry with them people by the hundreds, and hundreds of thousands; big crowds of people willingly displace themselves in the space of the world.  We are our own displacement mechanism.  We only have one last link of the chain dangling close to where it could be grabbed in order to remind us of a true and physical belonging to our rejected innate connections.  We topple new structures, and we either recreate them or force ourselves to forget about them. 
     There is loss of a sense of place through our very own ability to move about freely.  There is a clear loss of sense of belonging.  The latter is becoming an abstracted notion.

medium ::    DRAWING.  SOFT PASTEL ON WATERCOLOR PAPER (90lb Arches paper)
size ::          T 22
"x W 30"

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