In the Foothills of the Endless Mountain, Vol. 2

Prints, sculptures, and constructions at Wakeley Gallery, Illinois Wesleyan University, Oct. 17 - Dec. 11, 2022.

Re-envisioned with modified and added works at the St. Louis Artists’ Guild in Clayton, MO, Apr. 12 - May 18, 2024.

*Book Folds* series (various aged papers layered in a ladder step with ink stained type spacers, 2022) with *Classifying Layers (*photo transfers, monotypes, and etchings on Kitakata and silk papers, 2022)

In the Foothills of the Endless Mountain

I often say I am from the foothills of the Bighorn Mountains in Wyoming. The repetition of saying this phrase has me questioning the importance of the foothills beyond being the rolling grasslands blanketing the rocky uplift. If mountains are described as a precipice of achievement, a pinnacle closest to the heavens above, or an omniscient view of vast land below, the foothills in turn become the starting point of the ascension. The action of the climb is my focus–climbing towards all-knowing, climbing towards that which cannot be achieved, climbing to no end.

The transition of ponderosa pines to blue spruce to lodgepoles is one of many indicators of change. The terrain reveals life and time and heat and compaction in the road cuts and scattered talus leading to discovery after discovery. In all the geologic revelations, there are still so many unknowns. Often the answers only raise more questions, to reveal less than nature has kept concealed.

As I navigate the flatlands of the vast corn fields, minimal prairies, and glacial recession of the Midwest, I find a connection to the foothills in the spoil piles and landscaping stones. I see the changing pines in each Mazon Creek fern fossil. I recognize the long-dried wetlands of past eras that expose themselves in the Wyoming terrain.

Vol. 1 pursued openness, of finding new ways of understanding and introspection at home. Movement Toward the Open, just like the work seen here, was an exploration of materials with many of the works starting to take form in 2019. Through the extreme global transitions, I find even more significance to picking up a rock on walks with my daughter or finding ways to include her in the making process. These modes of making are much slower and more impromptu, often leading to larger insights in these jointly assembled works of art.

I give gratitude to Rita Bass for introducing me to the LOESS rock club in supporting my amateur rock hunting adventures; Bloom Community School for providing torn, soaked, recycled paper for pulping; Jack and Linda Ritter for fern clippings and identification; Dan Anderson for assisting in my vision of knot making; Ava Erickson, my daughter, for her willingness to indulge my whims and teach me new ways of thinking about the success of a project; and Matt Erickson, my counterpart, for documentation photography at its best and for his support in so many ways including the installation.

Additional information can be found at Ames Library and through an Ames Library LibGuide generously put together by Abby Mann.