Sabbatical Notes

Last week, my friend asked, “How is your sabbatical going?” I couldn’t find any words. All I had was an image of a deeply dinged aluminum coffee percolator sitting on a red-hot stove ring. I was back in my college kitchen, listening to the burbling water and smelling the aroma of burned coffee.

Being on sabbatical is a bit like sitting in that long-ago student kitchen. All my senses are engaged, waiting, observing, listening, and hoping that what comes out of the percolator will be drinkable.

In the past, a road trip meant lots of podcasts and audiobooks. But last November, it was quiet in the car as my eyes devoured the landscape in a new way. The night before leaving, I finished reading all of the essays that accompany RE/FRAMING THE VIEW: NINETEENTH-CENTURY AMERICAN LANDSCAPES, on view at the Whaling Museum until May 25, 2023. The thoughtful commentary has me rethinking my relationship to landscape imagery as an artist and a viewer.

Another pot brewing is kinetic, three-dimensional forms. After the Marine Heatwaves project, I am eager to explore how I can take botanical imagery off the wall in new ways. As I wander through art galleries, looking at materials, surfaces, mark-making, forms, and shapes, new ideas start percolating.

Yesterday, I walked in Plaza Blanca, a unique geologic landscape made famous by Georgia O’Keefe and other painters. It was a day to enjoy the beauty of the place and the gift of the iPhone.

Plaza Blance: Winterscape

We will plot a course home in a few weeks, hopefully driving in between winter storms. I look forward to being back in my studio space to play and experiment with all these new coffee brews.

The winter days are getting longer, and the garden will be calling soon.

Plaza Blanca: Trees In the Wind