Blue Sky

turning north - away from the hearth - reaching the border and the blue sky of a new, new year. I take a moment, a slice of life, to imagine myself atop the higher peaks, walking toward the filling moon.

Mooncat

It was the spinning in the ice that woke me at 3am. The closest moon i've ever seen. I ran to it, tried to hold it. The cold seeped into my shoulders and the light into the scent of the cold. And it was my breath and my blanket. It was the essesnce I dream so vividly of. And fleeting - in the cold snow - reflecting back the light much brighter for just that setting slide i lifted my face, eyes closed. Moon pond of the soul.

decemberism

The feeling of being pinned down by the clouds. Thank (my) god that at this altitude one still has a lot of room to move between compressing particles. Not so some places - where the atmospheric weight and the darkness can nearly get you walking horizontally on your toes.

The Aspen Hour

After the past two weeks up in the mountains, trees going off like fireworks, and me the lucky one who's gone up into it, we have finally had our first snow and frost (snow on the peaks that is). Some of the color lingers, dimming - but here's my reminder of what amazing changes we've enjoyed.

Lost Lake

round the bend



lake curve



the wind




scree chute



up the face



sweeping skyward



vertical lake



the path



peeking over



north east of Red River

greeetings from the fall

hello from the stormy southwest mountains where busily I make art,
tend garden and chase rainbows - .

plum -

the gold time

rise and shine



long grow the nights and cold



listening for whispers



hidden along the fold

Western Intrepid Traveling

gallup trail ride


breezy


over the hill


lake mojave


forest


zion clouds


zion wall


family on zion


origin


dead


looking back


night light


grand!


woven


glow


natural path


western light


mountain lion


across the storm clouds


on the trail


delicious


white cliffs


sitting


monument storm


monument clear


monument far


red earth


canal


across


red rising

Forest riding home

east on Hondo-Seco rd. to Arroyo Seco.

warm day, away
in the garden
bumble bee

Saul

Saul Williams

Mountain Currents April 12, 13 2008

I was recently involved in shooting, compiling, organizing and presenting an image reel for a multimedia chamber music concert in conjunction with the Taos Chamber Music Group (Taoschambermusicgroup.org) and Composer Hilary Tann (hilarytann.com). In this video - the images were generously provided by TCMG board member Robert Fitch, Taos photographer Geraint Smith (geraintsmith.com) and Richard T Hasbrouck (querencia.smugmug.com) of Truchas, NM our neighbor to the south, and myself. This reel was developed to accompany the composition "Zephyr" for alto flute and cello by TCMG director Nancy Laupheimer (Nancy is also the performing flautist).

Three pieces of H.Tann's were performed, "Nothing Forgotten" - which included images by New York Photographer Larry White - "Llef", and "The Gardens of Anna Maria Luisa De Medici". A Dvorak piece, "Dumky" trio rounded out the concert's rich program.

Shown in the contemporary gallery of the UNM Harwood Museum on the evenings of April 12 and 13, these collaborative concerts titled Mountain Currents were a wonderful honor to be a part of. Please enjoy this smaller "draft" version of the accompaniment to Zephyr.




Cat and Hilary

Grand Expanse

Time beat down the tall trees. Water dismantled mountains and left them miles adrift, elbows near noses etcetera. The stretching world rearranged its skeleton and lifted apart what once was whole.

What is left? Much much more.



I wondered throughout. About the travel from one grain to another once bonded at a distant peak.





I was at once alone.
And yet love and earth
were everywhere around me.

Selections of Sketch

losing ground

In the canyon at dawn, I felt the eagle. Unmistakable, he flew past us on an early morning hunt. As the world around us degrades by our ignorance, for now, at least, some things prevail to do as they have always done. I can not bear the weight of being human some days. Knowing what I am responsible for. I look at what life provided and say - why was it not enough? Why selfish and sparkling intelligence should set us about a course unwittingly to destroy the beauty we seek endlessly which is surrounding, not eluding, us, I do not understand. The eagle, white head, golden mouth soaring span stretched nearly to touch the winter white banks of Rio Grande. Not even Chaos can find its balance now. Hither come the dark spirits. Go. Sit. Be still. Try not to break anything else today.

Frozen Loom - Wax Wheel

Held high - the need to be one's own control,
one's own trust and one's own ideals.
Cold season, short days, learning to write
all over again or for the first time,
still there is a discipline to it.
Mine was a script glimpsed at the beginning of the game,
where things fell so easily into place on the loom,
as though I had known it all before.
It is not as such for all beings.





The hard long life and all its necessities
- learning words - learning worlds
- what makes us up and what makes us rise up,
and what brings us above what simply makes us up.
And to know truly what it means to be down.


\



Watching the angst grow in her
and fear in him, watching the love
all around us sink our hearts, eternal,
over the trials of maturing into
honest and capable reflections.
Red shoes, black cap.
A threat unknown perched high
and waiting a strike - futile but flaming none the less.
Journey,
Journey and find a way to hold our own.
A rebellious streak.
We develop without understanding
the litereary implications of our tears.



Coming again to a new year
and closer to the flux of warm days,
waiting again for blossoms after
a cold compression and marbling
of beauty and anxiety which so fills an early-childhood waning.
As for the guidance - it is sound if strained and takes
into account its own past and future
- hinged tightly to the heels of one's children
- though they know not nor ask of it.



Leaving another year behind,
strong and desparate
walking away from view pulling on my eyelashes
still heavy with the weight, not to be lifted, not to be dropped,
to remain until death, to continue heavily,
carried over all peaks and through all valleys - the knowledge
- once earned - never discarded,
never separated from the loom,
though perhaps the run is past.






Let the wax wheel spin, gather,
separate and finally, its purpose done, melt away.
The loom alone and frozen 'til another life slide through.

The Colding

What a month prior was sunflowers and birdseed and sunburns, now colding with ice upon the ground and rooftops turning our plums soft inside and our poppies brown. Our home is preparing itself for the long cold nights ahead - cooling low and awaiting its hearth to glow. Only one dip in the rio this year. And back to dormancy we go - sleepy heads, dusty fireplace, cold hard ground, warm drinks and sweaternecks to keep the glow in.



the round green world

the beginnings

forest in the forest

haley happy

morceaux

des petits pois de ma vie

Pink

2008



















2007

















8th annual gathering of women for women and by women - in youthful freedom at the home of Stephani Dimopoulos in Burnt Hills, New York. A celebration in honor of women standing firmly together in a time of life so usually divided by the opposite sex and caddy behaviors. Solidarity, so to speak, and art. And now, as the foremothers, Kara Jefts, Chelsey Brooks, Lara Engert, Jen Farina, Kim Morgenegg, Anna Lazarou and I carry the flame through the high school's youngest - at ten years age behind us - and see the new timid innocence and unsure faces - standing where we once thought ourselves so strong and wild. The "party" reminds us to be creative at all times, to see the beauty of being a woman and the honor of having sisters to stand strong with. And always to brighten the world with our feminine joy.

The first party, held when I was a sophomore in High School, was just a small gathering with the premise of support, love and creativity. It has emerged to stand for those things, but having a past, it must change at the hands of those currently in the art space at Scotia Glenville High. I will always honor our beginnings of embracing pink and creating images together and i hope to always be involved in the promising future of this significant sorority.

I will add all the images i can find here until i have no more to add.


Pink Party Archive

2007

k.khan
k.khan
k.khan
k.khan

2002










2000

communion

after conversations in Nairobi -- the ideal of faith

swirling

pen and inking

venus

new year of 2004

little things

Etching of the mask wearers. They see through eyes in their bellies but believe they need faces to dance in the world.

Of the inversion of skies

Image of the feeling of heavy clouds on the horizon and smoke from the chemins and fields.

Forest's flower

A small present from a small boy

what it is it is

sequins/sequence



where i am


her thrill


simonsunflower


where i once did dwell

Imagin, the line in the sand

Imagin is beauty. I am looking to see the melting center of an ancient icicle warmed by Imagin's laughter.
I am looking for Imagin in the dark hallway toward the sewing room in my grandmother's house, beyond the red velvet elevator, beyond the musty pantry and the gardens below. Which floral will she choose.
I am looking deeply for the whispers of Imagin's memory, the way she cloaks herself in the kitsch of the day and brigntens dull space with clippings of cloth and wrapping papers and foil. I am waiting for Imagin, at the base of the willow ringed by water and she sometimes lets her goldfish play under the willow there. Depending on the weather. They die in the cold. Imagin tends to the back porch steps - graying and peeling, she calls her brother over to see, the ants rushing between darkened slivers.

Laughing, Imagin walks toward the woods whispering "leaves of three, let them be". And I am walking after.

Watercolor Catalog

from the sky to the sea,
(for the northern new mexico midwifery center auction)



plum, september 14, 2008




cascade



closing distances



dragging storm



red sun



grove




four x pinksky



endless sky



4 batik/ watercolor on Mohawk paper



radiant



two-tone white trilogy



wildfire



four x redwind1



four x redwind2



alight



high peaks lake



hot ground

2007



tonnere



redwillow and apple



ojo verde



autumn



taos vista



hill lands I, II, III



pilgrimage



the mask



sankofa



garnet lake (collection of K Khan)



femme l'orange



bothsides (Collection of Nancy Cobean)



bleu



piedmont I II (collection of H. Tann)



the death toll



la morada del noche


2006



scape (Collection of Elyse Levy)



paris



octarine





octarine, details (for The Northern New Mexico Midwifery Center auction)



in the circuit or neé (on display at the Northern New Mexico Midwifery Center)



cattails (donation to the Taos Charter School auction)



up from the sky



reeds



waiting



moon ultra



poppy



somedays



black sun



(collection of H. Tann)


2005



nobody's fault but mine



passing



vista



ledoux poppies





2004



orangehands (H. Tann)



bluehands (H. Tann)



yellow tree



lindsaylaurie



undersky



oil fisherman


2002



west glenville memory



brandywine


I have a long history with watercolor and pencil.
I like to combine and savor color and shape. I am often guided by contours, sometimes by still life, sometimes by memory.
I am currently represented by the Rose Gallery in Hudson, NY. Please see www.rosegalleryfineart.com. I prefer arches aquarelle papers and change brushes and modify techniques often.

manipulated digital photography and graphic work

Graphic skills are a must in today's world. Aside from my fine art pursuits, graphic design using adobe creative suite is one of my major pastimes.

oil

oil painting is the medium I often forget to make time for, but it has fine results when i get around to it.

batik

Intense vibrant colors, luminosity. wax and dye on cloth. A good deal of time goes into a piece and it is handy to have vats, gloves, an outdoor heating element, and a clothes line. It is a hands-on full-body art. Stretched, hung as banners, or made into garments - versatile art.

contacting cat and her art

If you need any of my services or are interested in the use of any of my images I am available to the public by appointment.
call 575.776.2811.

Professional offerings include: Printing and publishing projects from the ground up, advertising design, file preparation, imaging and rendering, fine art photography (wedding or occasion), stock image/artwork. I strive to work with other fine artists to help them promote their work through comprehensive design and publishing knowledge. I work on promotional calendars, books/periodicals, photography and digital cleanup of works for publication. I work closely with a wonderful printer for boutique projects. oilandelectron.com

be feral

Essences in black
alongside white
negative, not to be negative.
Smiling wide
feral in essence.

champs des roses sauvages

Portraits of the family in fall.

The winter is closing in - but it is nesting lightly - more like cooing church doves than the heavy tread i remember in New York.
Still find yourself in tee-shirts in December but always by the fire in the night.

turning 24 and saturn on your heels

somethings i will only say to myself. Not to say they don't come out anyhow, but I once in a while will forget that I am spirit and light.
I am one of a few of myself. The only art is listening.

catinthegarden

I had dreams of fluffy dandelions - thousands, each ringed in a far off thunderstorm by rainbow halos