'Wildfire Ghost'
It is a well-known fact in the Unseen Forest, that when a wildfire passes through, it wakes small, sleeping things from the ground.
Some are seeds of course, resin-coated, waiting for the warm lick of flame to tempt it into growth.
The other small things are the ground-ghosts, which slumber deep in the soil, whispering to each other over the mycelium lines. After the flames have passed, they peek their heads out over dusty, charcoal-drawn ground and, after grumbling a little, look about to see which plants and creatures need their tender hands to tempt them back into growth.
About this series
Objet d'anon
Series: Objects: The Unseen Forest
There is a forest that grows from the mycelium of my mind, blooming outwards through my hands in forms familiar and surprising. Curious of their own becoming, self-regarding, often awkward. Parts foraged from nature’s gifts: stone, leaf, lichen, twig. Gathered from the ground, nothing plucked or picked, the tree-tops watching as I go. Something there, moved here, transformed.There are textures that return, woolen softness, iron spikes. Nature’s topologies writ out in moss, the earth's geometries stated in seedpod.Simple, restrained - only a thought or two combined. The human and the earth, thinking about each other, touching each other, becoming this: a third thing, The Unseen Forest.
Approx. 4 × 3.5 × 3 inches. Lotus pod, clay, iron, paint, varnish, pastel, resin, stone.
Ships gently from Colorado.
Materials: Foraged wildfire-charred sandstone, clay, lotus pod, paint, varnish, iron.
A woodland spirit for the collected home, folk art with the quiet of dark cottagecore about it. This sculpture belongs among curiosities gathered slowly — on a shelf of small strange relics, or a desk where one odd, tender thing keeps watch. Part burnt ground, part new growth — an art piece for rooms where objects tell their stories in low voices.
'Wildfire Ghost'
It is a well-known fact in the Unseen Forest, that when a wildfire passes through, it wakes small, sleeping things from the ground.
Some are seeds of course, resin-coated, waiting for the warm lick of flame to tempt it into growth.
The other small things are the ground-ghosts, which slumber deep in the soil, whispering to each other over the mycelium lines. After the flames have passed, they peek their heads out over dusty, charcoal-drawn ground and, after grumbling a little, look about to see which plants and creatures need their tender hands to tempt them back into growth.
About this series
Objet d'anon
Series: Objects: The Unseen Forest
There is a forest that grows from the mycelium of my mind, blooming outwards through my hands in forms familiar and surprising. Curious of their own becoming, self-regarding, often awkward. Parts foraged from nature’s gifts: stone, leaf, lichen, twig. Gathered from the ground, nothing plucked or picked, the tree-tops watching as I go. Something there, moved here, transformed.There are textures that return, woolen softness, iron spikes. Nature’s topologies writ out in moss, the earth's geometries stated in seedpod.Simple, restrained - only a thought or two combined. The human and the earth, thinking about each other, touching each other, becoming this: a third thing, The Unseen Forest.
Approx. 4 × 3.5 × 3 inches. Lotus pod, clay, iron, paint, varnish, pastel, resin, stone.
Ships gently from Colorado.
Materials: Foraged wildfire-charred sandstone, clay, lotus pod, paint, varnish, iron.
A woodland spirit for the collected home, folk art with the quiet of dark cottagecore about it. This sculpture belongs among curiosities gathered slowly — on a shelf of small strange relics, or a desk where one odd, tender thing keeps watch. Part burnt ground, part new growth — an art piece for rooms where objects tell their stories in low voices.
