Artwork inspired by the stone walls and boulders of New England
When I was a kid, the first thing I did with my shiny, new red Radio Flyer wagon was to fill it with rocks from the driveway. That wagon-load of rocks was so heavy it may as well have been a boulder, because no matter how hard I tried, that wagon wasn’t going anywhere.
Rocks intrigue me. Whether it’s a pile of river rocks resting on water-worn bedrock, a solitary glacial erratic, or an old field stone wall that’s been over-taken by forest, rocks define the spaces that surround them.
Boulders
A lot of people have a story or two about a rock they brought home from the beach or their favorite vacation spot. This series of artworks celebrates the rocks we can’t take home: boulders.
Boulders scattered across the forest floor may seem random or out of place, but here in New England they’re likely “bread crumbs” left by receding glaciers. The massive heft of the largest boulders dominates the surrounding trees, yet the trees often seem to be standing watch over this precious, long-ago abandoned, glacial cargo. Sometimes an oak tree will mold its trunk around a boulder like a hug — or is it a test of time and will power? Regardless of how or when these boulders came to rest, they bring a unique presence to their environment.
Stones
Inspiration for my stone wall series comes from the positive and negative spaces and the seemingly improbable balancing acts of the rocks within New England’s stone walls. Though a stone wall may appear to be a permanent fixture, many of New England’s old stone walls are gradually being reclaimed by nature as rocks shift, crack and tumble over time. An oak tree may not be able to move a boulder, but it can certainly send rocks tumbling from a stone wall.
Working from photos, I select a few stones based on their shapes and relationships within the wall. Without the rest of the wall to hold them in place, the context changes. The stones take on a fresh lightness. They come alive, like thoughts freed from all that weighs them down.