Sunset is now OPENDecember 2014:

I live in the virtual stream and the life stream. Every day. I am intense. I am the happiest I have been in a long time. I create deeply, with significance, one for everyone, with passion. All improvised.  

I try to stay away from caretaking as much as I can. I have done that time. I could do no more, not without damaging myself, beyond repair, into a much quicker decline.

So I  wake up in our 27 foot RV with slider in coastal Georgia, drink chicory, grab the cellphone and I walk/photo for 1 to 2 hours. I post 2 Р3 photos to G+. I drag sawn and backhoed shrubs and trees across the strip as I walk the perimeter of the grass airstrip, 43 acres from the road to the marsh. It was a farm until 12 years ago. The machinery waits, aging, under metal roofs.

I visit with Gaia Tree, one of the Live Oaks in the woods on the penisula on the marsh 15 miles inland from the Atlantic. I give thanks. I walk back, pick raspberry leaves, juniper and pine needles for the daily regional herbal tea.

I sort through the morning’s imagery, I post, I create, I read. Salad for lunch with some protein. Homemade dressing. …

We are on a death path, a path where we may never be able to come back to this planetlifestream in its incredible full richness if we do not all, immediately, do the most that we can to minimize fossil fuel use. We have gone past the tipping point. The extremes, the lengthening of weather events is already rapidly accelerating.

Many are beginning to change. Are you?

I express my grief, my hope, my knowledge in the work I create and respond to, in the paths/streams I follow, in the research that I post at my blog. I have been silenced over and over again by my caretaking roles, by polite conversation, and by a deeply wounding personal attack.

Sooooo, as to not go insane, I create. I pour it all in.

I wander off track regularly into the pathways of others, get caught up, get lost, come back. As long as I remember/practice “careful respect, folkish humour and ceremonial delight” I minimize my caretaking/hero habits. I am becoming the space to come back to.

Only when I create from the depth of my stream skin-to-skin with the world-earth-planet stream do I feel a measure of repose. That feeling also comes from in-the-moment back-and-forth prose writings with the wordsmiths/imagemakers/photoshooters of G+.

The people I engage with who are in-the-stream-of-now are also restful to be with. We are streams, not still lives. We each are many, not one.

The traditional 3rd person artist statement

Her prints are an abstraction of the moment when human beings interact with rich inks and papers; of humans connected to place; of humans exploring/experiencing process.

She has no preconceived image in mind. The process transforms bits of human flotsam into images which are mysterious, full of movement and rich in color. The image is whatever emerges from the juxtaposition of what objects were found that day, where the objects press into the plate and what styrofoam was used for the plate.