 plaster and resin sand casts in wood frames | “I love you more than salt”… Hearing the Slavic fairytale as a child, I knew how foolish the king in the story was because I grew up with that historically inexpensive preservative used in rural Alaska where modern refrigeration could be too expensive or scarce. So it should come as no surprise that upon hearing the biblical story of Lot’s Wife, I anticipated a much different ending: the realization that his wife was an enormous treasure. |
As an adult, I was introduced to the poem by Wislawa Szymborska describing, not a woman turning into a literal pillar of salt, but a woman cut in anguish trying to leave the past behind. Now that was a historic telling that made sense, and I painted an oil and mirror mosaic inspired by that poem. However, I was never truly happy with the painting, and this past January, after spending time on the history-steeped island of Gozo, Malta, I decided to revisit it. I covered the burning city with a sea-inspired liquid acrylic pour, and the mirrored city became saltpans. Civilization reclaimed by nature, history healed by time. Suddenly the painting, like the story, came alive for me. And because I felt a kinship to those Gozitans who continued to labor in that ancient and time-tested technique of salt extraction, it was only fitting to dedicate this painting to such a basic yet primal part of life: Salt.
Today, the ever-changing palette of Lake Michigan evokes the sea for me. So I put this wall together as homage to summer in Chicago and the treasures in our own backyard that we can too often take for granted. These Foster Beach sand casts (plaster, resin, sand) of driftwood and found shells serve as companion pieces, bringing to mind the grit and silk of the surprising number of beaches we enjoy in Chicago. And in the paintings: the plip and scatter of minnows in the shallows of Montrose Bird Sanctuary, the buzz of dragonflies over the dunes, the clip and billow of all those sailboats, and the ever screeching “mine-mine-MINE” of the flocking gulls.
Now, at the Andersonville Galleria:
Now, at the Andersonville Galleria:
