A creek threads through stones as different as snow flakes. Red and yellow lichens grow on eleven gray stones, ignoring the browns. Creeks assemble their stones without a vision of how the story ends, without a plan for that matter, trusting the flow of time. Lichens assemble their cells without a vision of how their story ends, without a plan, trusting the flow of the creek and time. 

My current work comes from meditations on the ways of the stones, the lichens, the creek, and the stones’ illusions when I infuse them with energy of the cosmos. These pieces do not begin with drawings or even visions with an end in mind. Instead, they grow from a process in which everything must find the place where it belongs -each stone, each stitched thread of a stream among them, each cell and each stitched filament that connects or constrains or remains when the cells are gone. This is a process both joyful and fearful.

The joys are in discovering where the stones and stitches belong. The fears are about not knowing the end of the story until I see it resolved. The stones or stitches might belong in places that disturb or distress, or maybe they won’t belong at all. I must trust time and the work’s own flow to bring resolution. 

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