© march 2022
handwoven doubleweave accordion book
hemp & linen with mixed media poem written by the artist
​edition of 1

dimensions
closed: 5”h x 5.5”w x 1.25”d
carousel form: 5” h x 8 – 9.5” diameter
open accordion form: 5”h x ~20.5” w x 3 – 5.5” d
 

eye-mark
horizontem
where air meets earth
where earth meets air
where sky finds its limits
where mind’s eye finds none
eággemearc

​solastalgia
© january 2022
Coptic stitch bound book
sewn with linen dyed with char mud from the 2020 Bighorn Fire
wet cyanotype prints on various rust altered papers:
Japanese washi, found papers, & handmade paper with desert plant inclusions
text printed on vellum; poems by artist
edition of 1

dimensions
closed: 6”h x 5”w x 11/8”d
open as flat lay: 6”h x 10” w x variable depth
open as vertical circular form: 6”h x 10” diameter


SOLASTALGIA is a neologism created by environmental philosopher Glenn Albrecht, from the words solace (that which gives comfort) and algos (Greek for pain) to describe feelings of homesickness for one’s home environment. SOLASTALGIA is caused by violation of one’s endemic sense of place and feelings of unease that the environment is changing for the worse due to man-made or natural destruction of the surroundings and lands where one lives.

I encountered the word SOLASTALGIA while researching environmental art; it defines my despondent emotions about the environmental effects of climate change on our Sonoran Desert, including those witnessed on my own property. It especially describes my distress over the massive destruction of desert currently underway in the suburb towns northwest of Tucson as they blade the land bare and build high density housing subdivisions with no regard for the irreplaceable beauty they are destroying.  This small book describes my experience of SOLASTALGIA.
 
excerpts
​
subdivided
all day long
the sound of metal
scraping
all day long
the clank of metal
crushing
all day long
the silent screams of plants
torn crushed broken
from the earth
all day long
the muffled cries of small lives
crushed buried alive
all day long
the silence of earth
scraped bare
where desert used to be
 
silencio profundo
Coyotes used to howl here. In the evenings and at night. Yipping their Morse code that grew to a glorious clamorous crescendo. Thrilling and wild. We would see the pack coursing through our property like a tawny silent river undulating with the terrain.
Spadefoot toads used to emerge here. Bleating in a deafening all night amplectic frenzy. Covering ground and roads with their plump hopping bodies.
Now there is silence here. The dark night stillness only disturbed by wistful hooting of owls and the lonely whine of passing cars.

haiku sonorensis​
primavera
explosion of life
betrays tierra seca
la vida verde
verano seco
​beauty of sunlight
​silver blue sky hot stillness
cicadas wire thrum
verano lluvioso
chubasco promise
water doesn't run uphill
thirsty desert waits
otoño
aire dorado
tierra refrescante
desierto brillante
invierno
breeze rattles crisp branch
grey wool sky speaks winter
summer thoughts fading

​© october 2021
Coptic stitch bound book
​mixed media collage mounted on board
haiku written by the artist
edition of 1

dimensions
closed: 10.5” x 8” x 1”
open as flat lay: 21.5” x 8”

​
Location, location, location… in other words, latitude, which describes the position of a place north or south of the equator and determines the amount of solar energy that location on Earth receives, matters in a big way. The Sonoran Desert’s address on the globe between latitudes 23°N and 30°N is what makes it a subtropical desert. This unique, lush desert is not only defined by its bimodal precipitation—summer monsoons and winter rains—which it receives due to its location between the Chihuahuan and Mohave deserts, it is also characterized by its two distinctly separate summer seasons—the dry foresummer and the wet monsoon summer, which results in five, not four seasons. Those who visit our desert or who are newcomers from locales on other parts of the globe that sport tender green growing things during most of the year, flaming fall colors, and snow might not be able to distinguish between our seasons here, but true desert dwellers will tell you that each of our five seasons is unmistakably different, and each has its own special beauty.