"I began this body of work feeling scattered, a little spent and rudderless, then walloped by unrelenting heat, the worst in my memory, and I’m a lifelong Texan. My garden became a dust bowl. Although my studio AC ran constantly, it couldn’t get below 87 most afternoons. Beyond the walls of my studio, fires and floods were happening seemingly everywhere, and the Arctic ice cap was melting four times faster than scientists had previously understood. I felt exhausted from the challenge to maintain hope.
I decided to just keep at the work, following curiosity, making pieces that reflected my scattered consciousness. Showing up in my studio daily turned out to be a hopeful act in itself. I started to see any number of directions I could take. I began a series of (30+) tiny paintings; 8 x 10” each, all oils on oil paper. I tried to just let the ideas flow, keeping my judgments to a minimum, just painting. Images that seemed more significant found their way into larger paintings. These tiny artworks are beginnings – little totems of my psyche, hung on one wall in small, intuitive groupings that are meant to be rearranged and added to over time. I imagine that every time I rearrange them, I’ll see new insights and patterns." - Valerie Fowler
Following the opening reception, the exhibit will be on display until October 30.
"I began this body of work feeling scattered, a little spent and rudderless, then walloped by unrelenting heat, the worst in my memory, and I’m a lifelong Texan. My garden became a dust bowl. Although my studio AC ran constantly, it couldn’t get below 87 most afternoons. Beyond the walls of my studio, fires and floods were happening seemingly everywhere, and the Arctic ice cap was melting four times faster than scientists had previously understood. I felt exhausted from the challenge to maintain hope.
I decided to just keep at the work, following curiosity, making pieces that reflected my scattered consciousness. Showing up in my studio daily turned out to be a hopeful act in itself. I started to see any number of directions I could take. I began a series of (30+) tiny paintings; 8 x 10” each, all oils on oil paper. I tried to just let the ideas flow, keeping my judgments to a minimum, just painting. Images that seemed more significant found their way into larger paintings. These tiny artworks are beginnings – little totems of my psyche, hung on one wall in small, intuitive groupings that are meant to be rearranged and added to over time. I imagine that every time I rearrange them, I’ll see new insights and patterns." - Valerie Fowler
Following the opening reception, the exhibit will be on display until October 30.
"I began this body of work feeling scattered, a little spent and rudderless, then walloped by unrelenting heat, the worst in my memory, and I’m a lifelong Texan. My garden became a dust bowl. Although my studio AC ran constantly, it couldn’t get below 87 most afternoons. Beyond the walls of my studio, fires and floods were happening seemingly everywhere, and the Arctic ice cap was melting four times faster than scientists had previously understood. I felt exhausted from the challenge to maintain hope.
I decided to just keep at the work, following curiosity, making pieces that reflected my scattered consciousness. Showing up in my studio daily turned out to be a hopeful act in itself. I started to see any number of directions I could take. I began a series of (30+) tiny paintings; 8 x 10” each, all oils on oil paper. I tried to just let the ideas flow, keeping my judgments to a minimum, just painting. Images that seemed more significant found their way into larger paintings. These tiny artworks are beginnings – little totems of my psyche, hung on one wall in small, intuitive groupings that are meant to be rearranged and added to over time. I imagine that every time I rearrange them, I’ll see new insights and patterns." - Valerie Fowler
Following the opening reception, the exhibit will be on display until October 30.