I paint life that exists inside cool shadows. Life in the desert breathes in the shadows and pushes back the dangers of the light. I mimic, with vibration of line and chaos of color, how desert plants and geography combine to conceal and protect the secrets of a shadow. I use acrylic paint so every color I choose and every line I create remain visible inside the shadows. I paint my desert, so that for a moment, time stops and secrets are revealed.
The treasures are not the obvious objects that populate my paintings, but the universe of subtle variation in color, texture, light and shadow that exists within those objects. The surface of a terra cotta pot, a single Saltillo tile, or a tree shimmer with dots and dashes of colors and multitudes of tiny brushstrokes that vibrate and seem to move with a life force determined to break free of the canvas and burst into the atmosphere.
Peacock trees are part of my treasures series. But they stand apart because of my use of red. During a stressful period in my life while my husband was ill, everything I painted was strong with red. Desert trees are green with life force, but in these pieces red became dominate. The peacocks resulted from a stop at a Monastery on a trip to Bisbee, Arizona. There lounging on the walls were peacocks. I felt my bright peacock trees needed their presence. All is well now, and these two paintings survive as does my husband.