Overnight things turned quite seasonal. Forewarned that the first snowfall reliably occurs by Halloween, I downplayed the possibility until waking up this morning to a world of white, which had already started melting by the time I, alongside the sun, ventured outdoors to look around.
SIGHT LINES AT AC HOTEL FRISCO
I recently received installation images from a commission completed earlier this year. Sight Lines grew out of a previous installation, this time with leather pieces joined together in fluid, interconnected linework inspired by topographical maps of North Texas. Since the piece left my studio as an unstretched canvas roll, it’s especially rewarding to see it framed and hung.
SAGE HARVEST
Recently I noticed the tips of the sage turning brown, which sent me into something of a panic. It seems I hadn’t even considered the possibility it would not remain green and fragrant well into winter. Sensing my chances for doing so diminishing, yesterday I decided to harvest a few bundles and while I could have just peeled off behind Taco Bell, I went for scenic instead. Zoom into the picture below to see totaled cars and rotting appliances at the bottom of the ravine.
At the post office, sending off what I thought were several very well packed parcels off to friends without the wilderness at their back door, the clerk at the counter weighed each one and without looking up, remarked, “sending some sage, huh?”
SEASONAL FRIENDS
I believe I neglected to introduce my housemates. You should have seen the party they threw when I moved in! Dancing, drinks, music, a spread—these gals had been waiting for me…
RIO GRANDE GORGE BRIDGE
I drove out to the Gorge today hoping some of the stormy skies over the mountain would offer a seldom view of the canyon, despite the fact they were playing out in the opposite direction.
Walking up to the bridge a woman in a bright yellow windbreaker smiled at me and in passing remarked, "it's sort of freaky!" I thought she meant the power of millions of years of erosion until I stepped onto the structure itself and felt the steel tremble each time a large vehicle went by. Somehow I hadn't remembered this from an early morning visit years before, when I was with other people and it would have been more fun to be afraid.
Despite promising myself I would refrain from dipping onto upaved surfaces in a low clearance station wagon unless my life or livelihood depended on it, later in the day I traveled a dirt road surrounded by sage for no other reason than to be surrounded by it in slanted light. The terrain was much tamer than that on the mesa with Mary Beth weeks back, I’m relieved to report, because I had no one but myself to soothe me through the voyage. Early on I saw a middle aged guy walking along the side of the road in a cardigan and casual trousers, which I took as a sign that at least on the surface, the stretch would be well mannered.
BURIED TREASURE
INSTALLATION AT AMARILLO MUSEUM OF ART
On a more random note, I swooned at signage for New Age Beverages hovering over a Topo Chico display, which made me wonder a couple of things. First, does this signify that some part of me truly misses Texas? The only grocery store I'm aware of that refers to cold brew and fermented delights this way is the Fiesta on Wayside in Houston. And second, if mineral water is new age, then what’s left for crystals?
From Carlsbad, I ventured up through Roswell and then back in to Texas to install Soft Targets at the Amarillo Museum of Art.
I had Sunday to play with while in town and went out to Palo Duro canyon, yet learned upon arrival that all of the trails were closed due to half a year’s worth of rainfall soaking the area over the last four days. When the ranger suggested I take a scenic drive I thought about all of the miles I’d already covered and politely declined. On the drive back into town, I saw what I didn’t realize would be one in a herd of horses marking any kind of business you could imagine—bank, Starbucks, funeral home—all in the same staggered pose.
The current AMOA Biennial, Textile + Fiber, opens October 11th and is curated by Alex Unkovic of the Fabric Workshop and Museum.
Don’t be fooled by this initial install shot—over ninety clusters make up the piece I’m presenting at the museum and I spent the better part of a day on site clustering them into place.
While I was there, it was awesome to see sister Houston artist and friend Claire there in spirit with her contribution, Sprung.
