This edition of giclees are printed on French Paper Co's hemp stock.  Backed with repurposed cardboard.  Ships flat.  
 
Poison Meadow is about a walk I took one day in the mountains of Southern Colorado.  I hiked until very late, and set up my tent in a meadow in the dark.  That night when I woke up to pee, I startled a herd of mule deer bedded down around me, who of course startled me right back.  But then I felt how sweet it was to be sleeping in their company until then...like guardians.  When I woke at dawn and emerged from my tent, my breath caught to see all the wildflowers around me, and the recently burned pines beyond them on the ridge.  I am trained as an herbalist, and also noticed that the vast majority of the flowering plants were poison plants, many of which have been used as small-dose (heroic, we call this in the herbal medicine world) medicine for acute illness.  I think we have much to learn from plants like this.  Humility, caution, respect, to name a few.  I see this as a microcosm for what we have to learn from the sensitivity of our planet's ecology.
 
environmental statement 2026
 
I run my business with a strong value to practice what these paintings ask of us for our world.  This means that I’m trying to exist in an extractive economy and unjust society while finding ways to slow or stop my personal extraction, while finding ways to stop complying with injustices.  Not because I think I am responsible for all the harm, or that individuals should bear the burden of corporate apathy and wastefulness, but because I know that culture change begins with each of us, and ripples relationally.  I dream of an economy that is more collaborative than competitive, that respects the natural limits and capacities of all earth bodies.
 
I no longer work in acrylic paints, unless I am using up materials someone has donated or discarded.  I’ve found that watercolor and gouache paints create the least waste of all the painting processes I’ve tried.  I love to work on discarded paper from other artists and studios, a habit that started with dumpster diving in art school.
 
I print my giclées in my own studio, where I can make good choices about materials, and what I do with my own waste stream.  I am phasing out plastic and GMO-corn-based print sleeves, and using ones made of recycled waxed paper or of farmed seaweed.  All my print backs are repurposed cardboard that I cut down by hand (if you remove the backing upon receipt of your giclée, the giclée itself is archival.)  
 
The paper I print on is recycled, and made by French Paper Co. in Michigan.  Though the company is not reliant on fossil fuels, they do rely on a dammed river for power, though I’m grateful they’ve installed a fish ladder.  Still, I dream of an un-dammed continent, where the waterways can resume their role as the life-giving circulatory system for all ecosystems.
 
I am committed to using my income to create a more sustainable life for myself and others, by creating off-grid infrastructure, growing food regeneratively, learning the art of benevolent stewardship in the valley I call home, and teaching what I learn to others.  I am committed to listening to, learning from, and uplifting other makers and land-tenders in my art practice and in my land-work, especially those who have been marginalized and ignored by a country who has always prioritized profit over justice and care.  I paint in hopes that the one who sees it will remember the miraculous interconnectedness of this world, and will be encouraged to believe in the possibility of participation in this world’s thriving.