When I finished the last piece of Drape, I ended with a searing golden band, so woven in dark edges some said it was like blonde hair. This struck me as an important development, a painting finally hedging in autobiographical territory. For years I knew I wanted to do it, I just wasn’t sure how.
This printmaking residency at Crow’s Shadow, funded in part by the Ford Family Foundation, is my way in, a break from the past in method while still entertaining the juice which preceded it. Juice: yellow, chartreuse, gold, gilded in black, alizarin crimson and viridian.
I couldn’t believe the drive as I approached the reservation – I’ve been to Pendleton before – how could I have forgotten the gold hills? Eventually I was surrounded, wrapped in yellow. It’s just meant to be. I walk outside and it's the first thing I see.