Pastel, graphite, Irish linen thread sewn onto wood panel
9 x 29
I loved growing up in New Jersey. We lived in the central part of the Garden State. Horse Country, although we did not have horses. My father was an engineer for Bell Labs and we lived in a small town surrounded by what was then pastoral farms. My family continues to live on the east coast, scattered throughout the New England states. I grew up in a town where old trees line the country roads, obscuring the sky for most of the year with their changing colors of blooms and foliage. But I loved the trees in winter. The bare trees silhouetted against the grey sky often heavy with snow. I enjoy returning each winter for a visit and get my fix of the winter sky, although now it is segmented by trees, tall buildings and often viewed through window panes of cars and building. It is a different experience from the vast view of sky we have here in the west.
Winter in New England particularly in the suburbs beyond the cities, there is a stillness in the air. Nature is dormant in slumber. The earth is soft underfoot; there is no crunching of leaves and very little birdsong. You can see your breath in the cold air. I love when it snows and the earth is blanketed in shades of white and grey and then pink and orange as the sun bids farewell to the day.