This painting began with a memory. It was late in the fall of 2020, we were camping at  Linville Gorge. That day, the mountains beyond the ridge were veiled in fog. Emmy, our pup, was still with us then, nose to the ground, searching for something to eat as I took photos.

So much has changed since then - I rely on the landscape and the special places we return to as kind of steadfast, reliant force - something to come back to over and over - the changing seasons evolving the land, but this was different.  A few weeks ago, in late April, we returned to the Gorge for the first time since the hurricane (Sept. 27, 2024) and found the top of the mountain changed beyond recognition - beyond the known ebbs and flows of the natural world - by the force of Irene - the force of a changing climate. So much of this place, that held such potent memories - of Emmy, of lush forest canopy, abundant growth,  was simply gone. 

In painting and repainting, I found myself layering memory and time, covering what came before to conjure the air and stillness of that day — a place shaped as much by what is lost as by what remains.