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I organize my website portfolio by;
works in progress:
Endangered Knowledge: The Soul of Humus
the year:
2025 2024-2023 2022-2020 2019 2018 2017 2016 2015
and media:
wire wire cloth bronze works on paper
If you are looking for something and do not see it,
I would love to help; send me an email.
220” X 120” X 110” site-specific.
Five-channel video and eighteen watercolor monotypes.
Image by J. Eshelman
During my research for Solastalgia with faculty from San Jacinto College, I became aware of the students' eco-anxiety, emphasizing the social dimensions of ecological crises. This insight inspired me to create The Power of Collective Action, a multimedia immersive installation highlighting the significance of our united efforts and their broad ecological impact.
Through an eco-art soil workshop that taught students about the vital roles of living soil and native plant species in urban environments, along with a cell phone photo shoot, the students began to see themselves as active participants in healing the planet. They connected with the natural world and envisioned how they could reimagine urban landscapes using indigenous plants and soil to support the water table and enhance biodiversity—powerful tools for mitigating extreme weather patterns.
Using the photos as references, I created monotype portraits of the students interacting with indigenous plants, roots, and soil. In the installation, I layered these portraits with videos documenting the restored wildlife from ecological restorations and aquatic ecosystems that I installed into Houston’s urban landscape. The videos are projected across a corner in building-like silhouettes, illustrating the potential of urban landscapes to alleviate extreme weather.
Utilizing natural and human-made systems, The Power of Collective Action seeks to ignite a collective movement towards ecological stewardship and urban regeneration through social sculpture and the educational system. The video documentation of the exhibition can be seen here.
30” X 44”
watercolor monotype
image by J. Eshelman
30” X 44”
watercolor monotype
image by J. Eshelman
30” X 44”
watercolor monotype
image by J. Eshelman
30” X 44”
watercolor monotype
image by J. Eshelman
30” X 44”
watercolor monotype
image by J. Eshelman
30” X 44”
watercolor monotype
image by J. Eshelman
30” X 44”
watercolor monotype
image by J. Eshelman
30” X 44”
watercolor monotype diptych
image by Jake Eshelman
6’4” X 8’ X 3’
Unearthed Crepe myrtle root balls, limbs, burlap, prop bank notes and paint.
Image by J. Eshelman
The inspiration for We arose from clearing a site of non-native plants for a living sculpture, where I unearthed three Crepe myrtle trees and examined their root systems. Notably, Crepe myrtles aren’t native to the area and do not support the ecosystem.
Standing upright on their sawed-off trunks, the roots took on an anthropomorphic quality, aligning with my exploration of humanity's connection to nature. Modern society often places humans above nature, a hierarchy my work challenges. In We, nature is elevated with human-like qualities, fostering a sense of connection and interdependence.
The trio’s placement—two tall figures flanking a smaller one—evokes care and relational dynamics. Crumpled banknotes surround the piece, like fallen leaves connecting living and economic systems.
5.75 “ X 6” X 7”
bronze
image by J. Eshelman
This sculpture is inspired by the essential role roots play within the plant kingdom, which I parallel to the human heart and its critical function of circulating life-giving blood. Just as roots draw nutrients and water from the earth—similar to how our digestive systems process nourishment—the heart pumps lifeblood to sustain us. Through this work, I invite you to reflect on our fundamental interdependence with nature, emphasizing that we are not separate from it.
64" x 97" archival pigment inkjet print on Epson Enhanced Matte Paper. 3 channel video, prop bills and vintage globe banks.
image by J. Eshelman
The inspiration for "The Nature of Currency" stemmed from a desire to initiate a symbiotic relationship between industrial growth and ecological conservation. Through fostering such relationships, we can transform Houston’s identity from a hub of chemical plants to a city celebrated for native plants and green energy initiatives. It is part a body of work I am developing Eco—systems.
90" X 264"
watercolor monotypes
image by Nikki Evan
A rumbling in the distance is nature's way of alerting living creatures to their environment.
Rumblings is an ongoing project, a monumental collection of fifty 30" X 44" watercolor monotypes that draw attention to the 20,000 species of wild bees whose survival is at a critical juncture.
In these works, I carefully manipulate watercolor ink and oil into a chaos of minuscule paint particles. The materials are interconnected across the oversized monotypes, paralleling their magnetic attraction to golden dust and their corresponding fragility due to the chemicals that flood residential gardens and industrial agriculture.
The installation of Rumblings is a call to action to reduce pesticide usage, create habitats for nesting, and cultivate native indigenous plants.
collaborative site-specific immersive installation
lens based: videos, three underwater videos, 12 videos documenting urban ecological restorations, 16 photographs documenting light.
string, clamps, acrylic, dichromatic film, large bills-prop, glass apothecary jar, paint. disco balls, fog.
found objects: passed insects, insect habitats, chrysalis, landscape and construction site materials, rusted and salt crystalized artifacts, sea shells, feathers, and a turkey skull.
images by Jake Eshelman
Potentia // Actualitas is a collaborative, immersive installation that explores the potential and actualized complexities of natural and human-made intelligence through lens-based media, found objects and ready-mades, in a site-specific installation. The lens-based works record iterations of light, space and water surrounding a central structure created from organic matter, rusted artifacts, glass, and construction materials. Running throughout is a neon line that connects these varying attributes into a systematic relationship. Together, Roykovich and Klement build a world that investigates the balance of opposing dichotomies and subsequent freedom from dualistic constraints. They advocate for a wild and intuitive response to a possible future of unbound potential.
POTENTIA
Potentia is an exploration into the possibilities that all entities possess. Using evolving personal systems, taking incremental steps, an environmental recollection merges with mystery through natural but intangible forces. As complexity develops into new hypotheses, imagination meets at the intersections of undefined futures, and a space is created that contains multitudes. We become scouts at the periphery of realization. –JR Roykovich
ACTUALITAS
Actualitas metaphorically represents a societal shift that fosters the coexistence of human-made structures and natural systems. The contention is not one of harmony in dispossession but rather a balanced composition where both are enriched. This new perspective invites us to harness the power of measured and natural intelligences rather than work against it in our pursuit of progress and innovation. – Cindee Klement
60” X 10.25” X 10.25”
Texas Bricks, Paint, Plastic Dome and Base, Vintage Globe Bank, Prop $100 bills, Coins from a diversity of economies, Paper Wasp’s nest on Maple tree leaves, Seashell with barnacles, Red swamp crayfish, bird nest, feather of a Pileated Woodpecker, Blue jay feathers, Mantis, Cicada, Great Purple Hairstreak, Tropical Checkered Skipper, White Peacock, Red-spotted Admiral, Monarch, Red lacewing butterfly, June Beetle, Eastern Carpenter bee, Wolf Spider, Beebalm, Sacred Datura, Bundleflower and various dried leaves.
image by Jake Eshelman
Interdependence is built from a collection of TEXAS-stamped bricks washed with a white patina. Stacked in the form of a square skyscraper, it shoulders a transparent dome and base, crowned with a vintage Globe Bank finial.
Within the transparent dome is a still-life collection of intricately connected elements from natural and human-made systems. They wreath a "Houston" stamped brick fragment.
By using everyday materials that we typically associate with urban environments, the work conveys that the collective actions of Houstonians, living in a dense population center with a sprawling footprint and long growing seasons, have far-reaching implications for global economies. It is a reminder that our choices impact not just our immediate landscapes but global eco-systems as a whole.
This sculpture is not a warning. It presents a solution. I employ systems thinking to suggest that embracing economic systems is necessary to recover biodiversity. Economic systems dominate our culture and intimately impact natural systems. Houston's ecology and commerce can potentially create a new economy - an ecotourism industry. Houstonians can transform the negative impact of industrialization, commerce, and urbanization into a source of beauty, wonder, and economic growth by advocating for our natural habitats.
Interdependence invites us to rethink our individual relationship with the planet’s biodiversity, recognize the value of our natural heritage, and embrace the idea that supporting wildlife is a global responsibility dependent on a collection of individual acts.
detail
images by Jake Eshelman
30” X 44”
watercolor monotype
image by Carlos Ocando
Horses are indeed a marvel of sensitivity and emotional energy. Eight months pregnant, Alex, my daughter-in-law, visiting a stable where she used to ride horses, had a beautiful moment with Diva, one of the horses. Even though Alex had never ridden Diva, it was clear that Diva had been affected by her caretaker's recent pregnancy.
Recording this emotional connection, I carefully manipulated watercolor ink and coconut oil into a chaos of independent cells. The placement of these physically independent cells creates the visual representation of a cellular-level spiritual connection between the Baby Whisperer and the unborn child.
This moment is a reminder that all species deserve much more credit than we often give them.
It also underlines how crucial it is to build connections with all creatures to restore and maintain a healthy ecosystem.
67” X 15” X 18”
Found object concrete and rebar curbing fragments, rusted steel, bronze, and gold leaf.
image by Jake Eshelman
Moving Forward consists of two rectangular concrete curb fragments and two cast bronze roots, the latter with gold-leaf patinas. These objects are tethered like irregular beads on a broken wire of rusty rebar falling to the ground.
The fractured concrete and the more extensive root land at the forefront in a forward strutting anthropomorphic structure. Growing behind the long-necked bird-like form, a stem of rebar twice the creature's height reaches for sunlight. The meandering stem is counterbalanced with the smaller root in a lyrical passed sunflower shape.
The weighted composition invites viewers to reimagine the relationship between our engineered landscapes and ecological systems to support wildlife as a means to forge a path toward a regenerative future.
30" X 44"
watercolor monotype
These three pieces are sketches for future work. This is the north fence line sketch.
30" X 44"
watercolor monotype
sketch of the north fence line.
This is the second of three sketches of the proposed installation.
30" X 22"
watercolor monotype
image by Carlos Ocando
This body of work consists of 22 pieces. These 22 pieces are experiments with shapes for a proposed installation. An in-depth description can be found here.
4” X 8” X 6”
polished bronze
image by Nash Baker
Whispers of a Shifting Divide is a polished bronze sculpture that imagines the unimaginable. It was inspired by my children's 1997 discovery of a crustacean fossil lying in the desert of West Texas just before we moved east to semitropical Houston, Texas.
The sculpture symbolizes the U.S. 100th meridian, the demarcation between the arid western US and the humid eastern US since the early 1800s. Since 1980, this demarcation between arid and humid has shifted 140 miles eastward from the west side of Austin, Texas to the east side of Austin to the 98th meridian. Another 140 miles — another 40-50 years — and Houston, known for its semitropical humidity will be on the arid side of the boundary.
The polished bronze material nods to Houston's future and industrial character, particularly the polished steel street signs in its minimally landscaped commercial tourist area, Uptown Houston.
By imagining the unimaginable, this work fosters a dialogue that calls for environmental consciousness of the possibilities of our actions.
12" X 24" X 5"
bronze, gold leaf found ledger, and bill
image by Nasth Baker
18” X 4.5” X 10”
financial gain and passed butterflies.
Image by Nash Baker
With Eco—systems, I propose building a relationship between financial gain and the planet Earth’s living systems.
Applying systems thinking to my work, I realize that profit is the fuel to change society's landscape practices to embrace the planet's ecological systems on the Gulf Coast. Applying economics and industrial concepts to my work, I propose that ecotourism is an untapped resource that can strengthen our environmental and economic health.
Through fostering symbiotic relationships that regenerate Houston's micro-ecosystems, we will move our reputation from Chemical Plants to Native Plants — we can prosper as the Green Energy City. — Symbiosis Celebration.
10” X 10”
passed butterflies, human species
Image by Nash Baker
Our past actions formed the precarious state of our environment. What we do today shapes our future. This piece suggests a caring and protective relationship between natural systems and urban development has extraordinary potential. I believe the human species has the creative capability to make our cities lush and diverse carbon sinks.
This work is a call to action. Your future is today.
10” X 10” X 10”
passed butterflies
image by Nash Baker
The North Eastern United States celebrates and capitalizes on Autumn’s falling leaves. On the Gulf Coast, we have an opportunity to build a relationship with our natural history and celebrate Autumn and Spring migrations. — Symbiosis Celebration
31" X 29" X 36.5"
bronze found object rebar and concrete.
Image by Nash Baker
Coastal ecosystems are dynamic. They are used by many different people, industries, and species. This puts them at high risk of tipping.
Located on the far east side of Texas, Houston is an important migratory pathway and covers 600 square miles of what once was the coastal prairie. One of the most biodiverse ecosystems in the US, less than 1% of this prairie system remains. Houston, projected to double in size by 2050, plays an impactful role in the continent's natural systems that once protected and nurtured the region's ecology, soaked up rainwater, cooled the planet, and stored carbon. Due to its location, Houston's landscape practices impact life on land and in the waters throughout the Americas. In August 2017, Houston received almost 52 inches of rain in a matter of days. Unfortunately, with the city’s current landscape practices and policies, Houston's rainwater no longer soaks into its soil, and its insects, flowers, birds, and the Gulf coral reefs are disappearing.
I believe our cities can incorporate policies to properly manage our landscapes to protect and balance these financial and natural ecosystems. — Symbiosis Celebration
6” X 1” X 12” ephemeral
Sticks, H20, Passionflower, Fall obedient plant, and American Beautyberry
6” X 6” X 24” ephemeral
Sticks, H20, Passionflower, Fall obedient plant, American Beautyberry, Beatles, Pokeweed, Scarabs, Golden Rod, passed butterflies and passed moths
image by Nash Baker
42” X 29” X 36.5”
roots and dried plants
Image by Nash Baker
Zoysia Turfgrass relief
35' X 47'
Embedded within the installation Symbiosis, Carbon by the Yard is a temporary, living sculpture in the shape of the Carbon element symbol, C. The work consists of carving a 16 x 14-foot shape into the existing grass and allowing the Zoysia grass to grow tall around it. A simple gesture, the letter brings attention to the role lawn-grass plays in climate change. In 2020, the Environmental Protection Agency estimated that grass uses up about a third of all public water: in the US, this translates to 9 billion gallons of water every day. And, manicured lawns provide no livable habitats for pollinators or the other plants and animals necessary to maintain a healthy ecosystem. With Carbon by the Yard, artist-environmentalist Cindee Klement brings attention to the ways in which our daily decisions can help to reduce our carbon footprints.
40" X 29" X 55"
steel, reinforced concrete, wire and coins
image by N. Baker
CHANGE
As society changes, the meaning of sculptures that address social issues can also change. In 2018 I created Broken for a small exhibition at the MFAH Glassell School Of Art. It addressed society's ability to turn a blind eye to the suffering of its most vulnerable. I was told the piece was uncomfortable to look at. In 2022 I was invited to exhibit it in Downtown Houston in a group exhibit composed of artists that reflected the city's diverse demographics. Around the piece in this space, I surround the man’s cup with change. I watched the exhibition visitors look at the piece. Some adults and several children picked up the change and put it in his cup. Seeing the piece through the lens of 2022, the piece including change addresses the rise of social justice and compassion that rose during covid spring of 2020.
14” X 6” X 6”
Found objects — a glass jar and cork lid, shale, charcoal, mesh, distilled water, Springtails, a Monarch carcass, living soil, Horseherb (Calyptocarpus vialis), Bigfoot Waterclover Marsilea macropoda, two chrysalides, two oyster shells, and a bird skeleton.
I documented the event by having the participants take a small step as a community to build a healthy functioning ecosystem collectively. Earth's water system is a closed water system. Although we can make soil, we cannot make more water.
As a symbolic gesture before the discussions began, each person added an element to provide the future with a water system to sustain life on Earth. The objects in the documentation are found objects — a glass jar and cork lid, shale, charcoal, mesh, distilled water, springtails to eat the fungus, and a Monarch carcass to envision the future. Sourced from Symbiosis, the piece includes living soil, Horseherb (Calyptocarpus vialis), Bigfoot Waterclover Marsilea macropoda, two chrysalides, two oyster shells, decaying plant matter and a bird skeleton.
After the event, I added elements present in earthly healthy ecosystems; the bird skeleton I found in Symbiosis last spring, two chrysalides vacated by butterflies and left on Lawndale's fence, a dried lemon bee balm bloom, and lastly, a past Monarch butterfly. Monarchs were not witnessed in Symbiosis' first year. I found this Monarch on the sidewalk of my neighborhood. To recover endangered species, we envision them in our terrain, provide habitat and plants that give them nectar. I placed the terrarium on two broken concrete pavers. As an urban community, we successfully built an ecosystem where our actions support natural systems that temper weather and provide clean water and air.
In 2021 I proposed to Lawndale a social Sculpture that addresses the three ways humans intersect soil in Houston. The way we treat our soil impacts two ingredients necessary to sustain life on Earth, water and air.
Public policy, Design industry, and Art activism.
Water + Air + Citizens is a discussion that looks at three ways Houstonians (humanity) impact these natural systems through urban landscapes.
Medians, yards, gardens, lots, parks, blocks are all surfaces of Earth. But, by any name, the skin of our planet purifies its water and regulates its atmosphere.
As the event grew close, I began to see a bigger picture, another layer to the work. In my sculpture practice, this is a common occurrence. In this case, I became aware that the title I chose for the sculpture is three of the most potent elements in weather. First, with water, we have floods and hurricanes. We are hit with hurricanes, tornadoes, and dust bowls in the air. Finally, citizens' power of public opinion is a tremendous force and often overcomes the common sense of individuals and leaders.
36” X 24” X 24”
photo by nash baker
A collection of keepsakes from the first twelve months of reimagining Lawndale Art Center’s garden to holistically support urban wildlife. These things were unearthed, homeless, found, gifted, dried, traped, stacked, planted, recorded and closed the year.
varies
Photo by Nash Baker .
Artist statement is under construction
12” X 18” X 12”
found objects: rusted steel irrigation wheel, root
photo by Nash Baker
“How fleeting are the wishes and efforts of man! how short his time! and consequently how poor will his products be, compared with those accumulated by Nature during whole geological periods.”
—Charles Darwin, Origin of the Species
Root to Water offers hope. The root, placed with the root system up, takes on anthropomorphic characteristics, as the widespread irrigation wheel’s legs are firmly grounded, the humanized root’s bent over posture and downward-pointing arm are alive with discovery, the root’s hair like tendrils are actively rewiring its human anthropomorphic brain. This rewiring is happening across the globe, in the most desolate of landscapes citizen conservationists are studying natural law and finding solutions to their man-made problems.
In Root to Water, the irrigation wheel symbolizes mechanistic systems. The root in its natural state represents ecological systems. With this duo, I propose that modern civilization has reached an advanced stage of industrialization. In order to progress to the next stage of civilization we must heed Darwin’s observation, and answer the question how do we pair mechanical innovation with the systems that have functioned through “whole geological periods.” I placed the root above the wheel supporting Darwin’s view of natural systems superiority to human innovation.
Repurposing two tools from agronomy, Root to Water shifts how we see mechanical systems versus naturally occurring systems. In this sculpture, a modern innovation—a rusting, decorative, human-made irrigation wheel—serves as a pedestal for an organic found object that often goes unseen: a root system. With this pairing, I exhibit man’s historical struggle to transition to an agricultural-based society utilizing human-made innovations that extract natural resources instead of harnessing existing ecological systems that regenerate resources.
Communities across the planet are experiencing extreme cases of natural disasters. Houston has experienced three 500-year floods in three years. The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers completed the Buffalo Bayou and Tributaries Resiliency Study, proposing options for controlling floodwaters costing up to $12 billion. The report does not include conveyance options that are local nature-based cost-effective solutions.
A growing number of conservationists are using natural systems, specifically roots, as a tool for water transportation, carbon sequestration and as a means to cool the planet. Meanwhile, industrial agricultural produces products that are depleting the organic matter, releasing carbon from the soil, and contributing to global warming. As evidence consider, “Each 1 percent increase in soil organic matter helps soil hold 20,000 gallons more water per acre.” In contrast, industrial methods strip the soil (releasing carbon), use petroleum-based inputs to enrich the soil and kill pests. Root to Water elevates roots as a natural system that transports water, minerals and carbon; stabilizes soil; and is instrumental in cooling Earth’s surface—a live-able solution for global warming.
My research-based art looks at the natural history of living soil and how it can be used to restore natural resources that is not commonly understood. I champion natural solutions to environmental issues with a focus on urban landscapes. Root to Water is part of my Endangered Knowledge work, a body of work in progress.
“Though the problems of the world are increasingly complex, the solutions remain embarrassingly simple.”
Further Reading
-Judith D. Schwartz, The Reindeer Chronicles, Water in Plain Site, and Cows Will Save the Planet
-Kiss the Ground, Directed by Joshua and Rebecca Tickell, with Woody Harrelson
-Organic Matter Can Improve Your Soil's Water Holding Capacity
-The Loess Plateau was the, most highly erodible soil on earth”
4” X 13.5” X 12”
bronze
photo by Nash Baker
Gust materialized out of the winds of West Texas. From my early childhood on an isolated cotton farm in Dell City, I have vivid memories of objects blowing across the fields, particularly my grandfather's Stetson Open Road hat. Woven in felt, every hat has a story and transports many conversations over the decades; these stories are shaped with memories and record beliefs... some eloquent, and some twisted. In generations past, in fable and in legend, hats sheltered spirits, veiled sorrows, represented people and their occupations, and defended against the elements. They are witnesses of varied pasts. When my grandfather passed, his hat landed on my coffee table.
To most artists, a Stetson is a stereotypical Texas symbol to be avoided. For me, using hats as a sculptural material unearthed my artistic voice and shaped my first environmental narrative. Cradled in my youthful memory, hats blew in strange, wonderful ways, spinning from a generation marked by my respect to balancing present responsibilities and fears. My innocence escaped the realization that the consuming wind was not a natural occurrence; it was, in fact, the result of the perfect storms of the 1930’s, the dirty '50s, the ‘70s, and the ‘80s dust bowls. Each storm inspired new government environmental policies and land management.
In 2017, I traveled to set my eyes on our old farm and experience the landscape of my youth. I saw vast, vacant fields of beige tilled with stillness, patched with acres of monocrops raised to feed animals in stockyards—it looked normal, but felt somehow wrong. Passively I noticed the cultivated rows were no longer on the same elevation as the dirt roads and cinder block house—the fields lay in recessed plots. Wind erosion, eighty plus years since Black Sunday—unimaginable. Visiting for Christmas in 2018, I heard my parents discuss the time they returned home to Dell City to find two feet of soil in the house, and the time my mother met an old rancher who remembered when the area was covered in grass as high as a horses’ belly. At 60 years of age, I realized for the first time that the wind which captured my childhood imagination and stole my grandfather’s hat was the dust bowl's lingering ghost: it was man-made. It was like a knock in the head, despite numerous “environmental” governmental agencies the industrial revolution has morphed into industrial agriculture practices. Food is grown as a commodity: the environmental impact and nutritional value are out-weighed by quantity and production time. This was not my first aha! moment concerning the status quo; I learned to question food production/marketing and modern medicine in 1996 when my husband became diabetic. In 2006, as a lone ranger in my beliefs on nutrition I committed to only eat grass-fed meat and organic whole foods. In 2013, a Ted Talk by Allan Savory linked my nutritional world to the desertification that left its imprint on my subconscious and gave new meaning to my work.
Gust (2020) consists of six cast bronze hats, each contorted by the winds of my imagination and the ill-conceived farming and governmental practices that prioritize the GNP before human nutrition and ecological function. The six hats represent the six principles of the regenerative agriculture revolution: eliminating tillage, maximizing crop biodiversity, keeping the soil covered, maintaining living roots year-round, integrating livestock to build soil microbes, and holistic management.
Gust arose in the desert and rests in Houston’s fields of green; these hats now witness the dawn of a new agro-environmental awareness.
4" X 13" X 8"
bronze
photo by Nash Baker
The sidewalks in my neighborhood are my nature trail. I walk with my eyes on the prowl for intriguing insects, exoskeletons, insect wings, feathers, dried flowers, twigs, leaves, seeds, and pods — things my children’s eyes taught me to find during our walks together over the years. Since 2013, these biological mementos have found their way into my bronze work in the molds of nests. Each piece is a reflection of that year’s ecology and records the time and movement of environmental restoration.
Initially, I was unaware of the landscape around me, but as my art dove deeper into environmental restoration and Hurricane Harvey changed our city, I realized that my days are, in fact, full of sterile surfaces. With COVID-19 quarantine, children in my neighborhood started venturing outside and looking for things to capture their curiosity. Delighted with their new interest, I realized that the green spaces and puddles children explore now are no longer filled with a diversity of life; the box turtles, bullfrogs, tadpoles, bumblebees, and assortments of flitting insects have evaporated with the spray of insecticides and herbicides in our neighborhoods. The selection is reduced to cicadas, the common beetle, honeybees, a rare native bee, and an abundance of Cuban lizards that dwell in turf grasses, boxwoods, crepe myrtles and oaks. I have awakened to cultural landscape uniformity. COVID has changed how I see the need for perfect lawns; the dirty truth is mosquito home-misting machines, obsessive weed control, artificial turf and a lack of plant diversity have turned urban neighborhoods into manicured monocultures for humans exploring video games. These habitat changes in massive population centers are fast-forwarding evolution: loss of wildlife habitat is one of the biggest threats facing many animal species. This does not have to be—it is a societal choice, the ability to speed up evolution can go both ways. Through my works – Lawndale’s Symbiosis, Endangered Knowledge: The Soul of Humus, Gust, World of Hum, Rumblings and Root to Water—I am committed to creating work that educates and helps communities change how we landscape our cities to include valuing the natural world and turning back the evolution.
In Dirt to Soil, Gabe Brown quotes Don Campbell, “If you want to make small changes, change how you do things, if you want to make big changes change how you see.” When I come across intriguing flora or fauna on my urban trail, albeit few and far between, I see them as evidence that can inspire a revolution in the landscape. If they are expired and will not decompose, I collect them. I see these bronze cast nests as urban wildlife fossils—biographies, every year a chapter recording Houston's environmental awakening. As an optimist—environmental—art—activist my work focuses on revealing endangered knowledge to change how we see urban landscapes and activate cooling the planet through our cityscapes. As migratory birds return year after year to build nests and raise their young, I return with optimism in my step. I envision witnessing the return of four hundred plus butterfly species and eight hundred bee species native to Texas. I can see this returned wildlife capturing my future grandkids' imaginations. I will tell them the story of how insects almost disappeared and how every yard is a micro-ecosystem and matters. I imagine their hands building nests with a diversity that I cannot imagine. I hear their voices telling me in one breath about the fuzziest-biggest bee they ever saw, covered in golden dust nesting in a patch of ground beneath the sunflowers not far from the silverleaf nightshade. I see them bringing me a tail-feather from a Red Shoulder Hawk and asking, "what does it hunt" and is it the bird that sounds like the squirrel's screech. After a rain, I see them finding two bullfrogs attached and their tiny ribbons of floating eggs in a pond. I hear them tell me not to touch the caterpillar of the southern flannel moth, and asking me, “how does it sting?”. At the low of evening when dragonflies hover; I will watch as they study the night heron’s quiet solitary stance as it stalks small citizens of the grass, I will smile as they question the raucous warnings of ravens and the scoldings of nut collecting squirrels. I will feel their excitement when neighborhood raccoons appear from storm sewers and scavenge treats from dog bowls and opossums waddle fence lines, searching out grubs and open garage doors. I will follow their eyes when the silent patrol of the lone coyote visits the shadows of our boulevards from their bayou bound dens. I let them sleep outside and hear their heavy eyelids ask, why do the owls ask who? I listen as they wake up to a concert of white-winged doves. I will feel peace when they are wise to nature.
5” X 9” X 7.5”
bronze
photo by N. Baker
4.75” X 10” X 5.5”
bronze
8.5” X 11.5” X 11.5”
bronze
photo by Nash Baker
Subterranean Secrets is part of my Endangered Knowledge work, a work in progress.
For several years, I have researched grass-fed food production, attended soil conferences, and visited regenerative ranches. Research in these fields reveal how to fight desertification and reverse climate change through regenerative agriculture practices. Interestingly, this natural history of living soil, how it evolved with roots, fungus, plants, food, and animals, carbon and their essential roles within microbial communities in human health, is not common knowledge. Subterranean Secrets excavates this crucial tool in storing carbon.
10” X 9” X 13”
bronze and concrete
photo by Nash Baker
9” X 7.5” X 13”
bronze
photo by Nash Baker
36” X 8” X 8”
bronze
photo by N. Baker
36” X 8” X 8”
bronze
4” X 8” X 6”
bronze
phot by Nash Baker
A fossil is our planet’s recorded history, the memoir of a life in a place, time, ecology, and evidence of global warming. It is Endangered Knowledge.
Many processes in art mimic fossilization, including casting or mold making. I crafted a mold of a fossil that one of my children found at my son Griffin’s 8th birthday party in El Paso, Texas. It was a fossil hunting party at Cerro de Cristo Rey. (It is an intersection of two countries and three states.) A prehistoric relic, now a family treasure, I thought it would be meaningful to make a mold and cast it in bronze for each of my two children, a reminder of their childhood. A mold-of-a-mold a fossil-of-a-fossil. I found the redundancy poetic.
My son is now 31 years old. I have hurried by the fossil at least once a day since Griffin was eight years old and did not think twice about it. Casting, it has forced me to think about the form and its value as an object of art. Evidence of aquatic life resurrected from the middle of the Chihuahuan desert. Hearing, “This desert was once an ocean.” did not phase me in the past. now, thinking about the mineral remnant of a sea creature surfacing in one of the driest terrains in the US gives me pause; it inspires me to consider how we can live our metropolitan lives and preserve natural systems.
— This poetic symbol of desertification will find meaningful ways to wander across disciplines into future environmental works.
I cast three additional fossils to share with others who are interested in natural history; two are finished in a natural patina and one in a contemporary finish — polished bronze.
a multi-year work in progress
53.5’ X 48’
found object, Lawndale Art Center sculpture garden, native plants, compost, and mulch
photo by Nash Baker
“We see nothing of these slow changes in progress, until the hand of time has marked the long lapse of ages.”
—Charles Darwin, Origin of the Species
As an artist, I am interested in the ways that sculpture and printmaking can incorporate time and movement. My work records endangered knowledge to the collective memory and reimagines urban landscapes to holistically balance the needs of humanity and wildlife.
In Symbiosis I am stretching my practice and creating a living piece of site-specific art activism that will reimagine a 53.5’ X 48’ traditional urban landscape/sculpture garden and answer the question: how do we holistically restore an ecological balance in Houston? Symbiosis is a collaboration with Lawndale Art Center’s community, neighbors, urban wildlife, and the coastal prairies carbon cycle.
The Mary E. Bawden Sculpture Garden's terrain, with its manicured landscape functions as a living found object. In phases, I will implement holistic regenerative agriculture concepts with sculptural techniques of carving and assembling, utilizing ordinary tools to manipulate organic materials such as water, clay, and carbon in a manner that will absorb light and store carbon. Together, with partners from the Lawndale community, we will sculpt the surface into the textures, colors, and scents that attract and support Houston’s urban wildlife, inviting living organisms to return to the space. Symbiosis will be a living, breathing installation, that stores carbon and absorbs rain. As temperatures dip, Symbiosis will mark the slow changes in progress; a vibrant field of greens spiked with hues of blues, cones of purples, and splashed with rods of gold will fade into winter. The withering flora will be stored as carbon in the soil of life. Their roots will follow creating cavities and nourishment for subterranean citizens to dwell and micro underground storage facilities for future downpours. Spring showers will trickle from leaf to leaf and dribble into the expanding brown sponge of living organisms, refreshing the living. A rising eastern sun will drape the surface with silent bells and clusters of stars tinted pinks and reds, bringing birds and butterflies. The likes of bustling Bombus penslyvanicaus quivering among the stamen and the stigma will deliver summer’s bounty. Every season the patina will reflect a new light, transform energy, and attract a kinetic array of species that will stipple the installation with flutter and buzz. Time will be marked by the installation’s natural rhythms and carbon cycles: when the Carolina Wren’s whistles wake up the morning, when silver haired bats fly during a summer sunset, when the Eastern Screech owls search the dark as male Mockingbirds practice their solos at full moon. It will saunter to the rhythm on the migratory pathway of the Coastal Prairie ecosystem and set its stage for urban regional art exhibitions. In the city known for its diversity of people, the garden will become a space for the voices of contemporary imaginations to sing with their natural history and influence its cultural and ecological future.
As the hand of time marks the long lapse of ages we will reconnect with the unique local landscapes that define and support Houston, Texas.
Additional information and reading
- How Non-Native Plants are Contributing to Global Insect Decline
- Roundup herbicides, with glyphosate used in urban settings impacts Earhtworms ability to provide
- Contain Multitudes, The Microbes Within Us and A Grander View of Life, By Ed Young
- Dirt: The Erosion of Civilizations, by David R. Montgomery
- Allan Savory on how to fight desertification and reverse climate change
- Soil as Carbon Storehouse: New Weapon in Climate Fight? - Yale E360
- Soil Biology and Land Management
- How shocking events can spark positive change, Naomi Klein, Ted Talks Daily, July 28,2020
size varies
bronze
photo by Nash Baker
This work is a minuscule response to Frankenfood.
I welcome studio visits and the opportunity to discuss my work and learn how others respond to it. These small bronze pieces are studio visit gifts; they are my way of showing my gratitude for those who are interested in my environmental view. Email me for a time to stop in for a visit. And select a bronze whole food mini sculpture.
12” X 4” X 2”
bronze
photo by Nash Baker
Humans choose how we react and how we see. “What You Think You Will Become.” I have found this to be true. The surface texture of the piece is composed of repetitive arched lines; and mirrored in the profiles and contours of the work. The more extended narrative regarding what we think we become is posted in my blog.
50” X 120” watercolor monoprint
63” X 28” X 28”
shadows, hydro stone, rusted wire cloth, and baling wire
photo by Nash Baker
Scientists predict that without pollinators, human life can only exist for four years. In 2017, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service listed the Rusty Patch Bumble Bee on the endangered species list. PNAS Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States report that the herbicide Glyphosate and neonicotinoids are innocuous to bees, however, they target microorganisms that are necessary for the bees’ digestive systems. This exposure weakens their immune systems, making them vulnerable to infection… and in time extinction!
In World of Hum, I am interested in the ways that abstract sculpture can incorporate time and movement, making visual effects similar to those in long exposure photography. I have adapted the blurred movements of a keystone species into a metal sculpture that hangs from the ceiling. This 4D kinetic installation is made of shadows, hydro stone, rusted wire cloth, and baling wire. The piece is physically very light and hangs on a piece of monofilament connected by a swivel from an acrylic hanger. With one light source, the piece casts shadows onto the silo wall. The air movement in the building causes the sculpture to slowly turn, changing the viewer’s perspective. The turning movement causes the 3D abstract shapes of the insects, botanical shapes, and 2D shadows to disappear into each other, making a kinetic representation of time and suggesting extinction as the wild native pollinators disappear into the dark. The sculpture also allows for hope; when we allow the natural rhythms of nature to return to the World of Hum the wild native bees will slowly reappear. Urban landscapes can make a difference and Houston can be a vital bee habitat.
World of Hum is part of Impact a large body of environmentally-focused abstract work. Impact focuses on the unexpected consequences of forcing natural processes into an industrial model and the complex relationships between humans, plants, and animals. The series includes kinetic and shadow sculptures, free-standing sculptures, mono-prints, lenticular prints, needlework, and community programs. I have designed the series to work together in various configurations, depending upon the exhibition or site-specific context.
ADDITIONAL INFORMATION
Why it is important to plant non-hybrid native plants.
Mosquito control and pollinators
Common pesticides and pollinators
How to lessen the impact on pollinators from pesticides.
Urban Landscapes are important ecosystems
Changing how we landscape our cities and support urban wildlife.
Kinetic Sculpture
“Recording natural history to the collective memory so that it will no longer be endangered knowledge”
- Mitchell Thomashow
Keystones in the Sky will be a King Kong size video of the movement of my latest 4D kinetic sculpture art installation, World of Hum along with images selected from the 10,000 wild bees photographed by the by USGS with macro lenses. The video will be projected onto urban landscapes. This King Kong size video will allow me to reach audiences I cannot reach in the typical gallery setting. Keystones in the sky will turn unlikely urban spaces into mesmerizing kinetic canvases. It will start the conversation in urban neighborhoods and communities to reimagine urban landscapes as gardens across the 600 square miles that Houston sits on.
Researchers are reporting that urban bee populations are more diverse than in rural areas. In cities such as Chicago, Berlin, Berkley, and Melbourne, native flowers, grasses, fruit, and vegetable gardens planted in parks, neighborhoods, city centers, vacant lots, and street medians support healthy, vibrant wild native bee populations. Wild bees cannot live in industrial agriculture's rural landscapes of mono-crops and chemical inputs.
With this information, it occurred to me that Houston covers 600 square miles of land, with 2.3 million people it is the most significant economic center of the south, and it has a long growing season. As Houston continues to sprawl across Texas, it’s real estate must increasingly become a refuge for native plants and bees. When there is a need, the 2.3 million Houstonians act. Houston can become an essential urban native bee habitat.
20’ X 18’D installation in Sculpture Month Houston, SITE Gallery Houston (historic grain silo), Outta Space exhibition.
shadows, hydro stone, rusted wire cloth, baling wire
photo by Nick Sanford
Scientists predict that without pollinators, human life can only exist for four years. In 2017, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service listed the Rusty Patch Bumble Bee on the endangered species list. PNAS Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States report that the herbicide Glyphosate and neonicotinoids are innocuous to bees, however, they target microorganisms that are necessary for the bees’ digestive systems. This exposure weakens their immune systems, making them vulnerable to infection… and in time extinction!
In World of Hum, I am interested in the ways that abstract sculpture can incorporate time and movement, making visual effects similar to those in long exposure photography. I have adapted the blurred movements of a keystone species into a metal sculpture that hangs from the ceiling. This 4D kinetic installation is made of shadows, hydro stone, rusted wire cloth, and baling wire. The piece is physically very light and hangs on a piece of monofilament connected by a swivel from an acrylic hanger. With one light source, the piece casts shadows onto the silo wall. The air movement in the building causes the sculpture to slowly turn, changing the viewer’s perspective. The turning movement causes the 3D abstract shapes of the insects, botanical shapes, and 2D shadows to disappear into each other, making a kinetic representation of time and suggesting extinction as the wild native pollinators disappear into the dark. The sculpture also allows for hope; when we allow the natural rhythms of nature to return to the World of Hum the wild native bees will slowly reappear.
World of Hum is part of Impact a large body of environmentally-focused abstract work. Impact focuses on the unexpected consequences of forcing natural processes into an industrial model and the complex relationships between humans, plants, and animals. The series includes kinetic and shadow sculptures, free-standing sculptures, mono-prints, lenticular prints, needlework, and community programs. I have designed the series to work together in various configurations, depending upon the exhibition or site-specific context.
watercolor monotype
30” X 44”
watercolor monotype
30” X 44”
watercolor monotype
30” X 44”
watercolor monotype
30” X 44”
These are the first pieces in a new body of work within my environmental work, Impact. Stay tuned to see how Rumblings progresses.
watercolor monotype
30” X 44”
watercolor monotype
30” X 44”
48” X 28” X 28”
steel, hydro stone, wire cloth, wire mesh, and baling wire
photo by Nash Baker
Portrait of My Cousin was inspired by a long exposure photograph of my cousin, Arkansas Symphony Concert Master Andrew Irvin, that captured time and movement as he played his violin. I applied the same concept of capturing time and movement in photography to abstract sculpture. The piece is physically very light and hangs from a piece of monofilament connected by a swivel from an acrylic hanger. With one light source the piece cast shadows onto the wall. The air movement in the room causes the sculpture to slowly turn changing the viewer’s perspective. The turning movement causes the 3D sculpture and 2D shadows to disappear into each other and reappear at a different perspective. This creates the abstraction of time, movement and sound energy as the Concert Master plays. The gentle movement can be as hypnotic as a beautifully executed sonata. See the video below.
66” X 42” X 60”
steel, hydro stone, plaster, wire mesh, wire cloth, baling wire, and stainless steel lath.
image by Nash Baker
My Harvey body of work would not be complete without paying tribute to the rescue efforts made in rural Texas. The LIVEstock pieces honor those who would not evacuate without tending to the safety of their animals. The LIVEstock pieces honor those who would not evacuate without tending to the safety of their animals, the work includes six 30” X 44” monotypes and one life-size sculpture, Bringing Home the Bacon. The sculpture was inspired by a YouTube video of a Conroe man hoisting Penny, the family pet pig up the stairs of their home.
182'“ X 67’’
image by Nash Baker
When you witness, or experience a horrific event there are images that hold onto you; images that will forever be conjoined to the experience.
Weathering Houston’s hurricane Harvey, I was glued to the TV and Houston’s social media postings. My eyes soaked up videos of contaminated waters creeping in the homes of nearby neighborhoods. I witnessed daring rescues of families as they were evacuated. In amazement, I watched mothers and children pile into garbage trucks, elderly folks in wheel chairs airlifted by helicopters. Through social media calls for help, it became obvious our cities first responders could not get to every home in need. Proudly, I saw brave Texans convert their flat bottom fishing boats, and jacked up pickup trucks into life rafts and search for those who called for help. No Texan would be left behind.
When our street drained, turning off the news and putting my social media in my pocket, I packed up my dry survivor’s guilt and headed down to the George R. Brown convention center to volunteer and treat my pain and my conscience. The Red Cross had turned one-third of the GRB into a families with pets section. Entering the building with dilated pupils I wove my way through the walk ways created by the clusters of cots and kennels occupied by families and their pets. It struck me that even in the midst of a disaster we humans create neighborhoods and small communities, we are pack animals. I headed towards the pop up pet supply store well stocked from donations made by citizens and the volunteer veterinary clinic where I would be helping out. Careful not to disturb the sleeping citizens of the newly formed families with pets city, I was confronted by a single cot. It was freshly dressed in a crisp white sheet accessorized with a fluffy white pillow and tucked in by a cozy, white flannel blanket decorated with tiny Red Cross logos all over. It was isolated from the others waiting for the next victim of Harvey to tuck themselves in and comfort them with safety. With all the rescue images of people trudging through unsanitary water, homes floating in floodwater fresh in my memory bank that cot was shockingly - humanity. Thirty thousand GRB citizens would be relieved to make it their new homestead. It was heart breaking and beautiful all at the same time. I could imagine if I had been rescued that cot would have been a long-awaited relief. I would not have asked the sheet thread count or if the cotton was grown pesticide free. My heart hurt for all those who were grateful to have such a cot. That cot, that crystal clear image of stripped down humanity, is the Harvey image that holds onto me.
Within weeks, I made two watercolor monotype pieces of the cot. One as I saw it and one with a pet waiting for its owner. I was pleased with their crispness and the delicate watery shapes seen when closely inspected. It occurs to me that the cot was so symbolic to me because of the constant looped eyewitness news reporting and abundance of social media posts. I was seeing the same strong images over and over. From my dry den, I too experienced Harvey.
water color monotype
22'“ X 30
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
watercolor monotype
22” X 30”
watercolor monotype
22” X 30”
watercolor monotype
22” X 30”
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
water color monotype
30” X 44”
water color monotyoe
30” X 44”
water color monotype
30” X 44”
water color monotype
30” X 44”
water color monotype
30” X 44”
water color monotype
30” X 44”
watercolor monotype
44” X 30”
PNAS Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States report that the herbicide Glyphosate and neonicotinoids are innocuous to bees, however, they target microorganisms that are necessary in bees’ digestive systems. This exposure weakens their immune systems, making them vulnerable to infection… and in time extinction!
watercolor monotype
44” X 30”
watercolor monotype
44” X 30”
wire cloth, plaster and LED flood light.
9’ X7’2”
photo by Nash Baker
“It’s a Movement”, is a 4D, kinetic sculpture of five female figures that are made of wire cloth, plaster and shadows.
detail
6’6” X 5’5” X 5’
steel, plaster and wire cloth
photo by Nash Baker
“Sonata in 4D” depicts energy, sound and the physical act of playing classical music, and its primal impact on emotions. I was inspired by a long exposure photograph of my cousin, Arkansas Symphony Concert Master Andrew Irvin, that captured multiple images as he played his violin. I was struck by the simple back and forth movements of a bow, composed of horse hair, drawn across strings that create emotionally charged sounds. In this piece, the music radiates off the musician as he plays, as well as off the strings of the violin, sometimes like a painfully slow waltz, and sometimes with the sharpness of a quickstep. Working on the piece during the last weeks of my father’s life I examined each movement of the bow and the wire/sound that comes off the violin. Some warble and then end sharply like a tear running down a cheek. Others gently twist into a whisper that fades into a broken heart, and some linger and then pivot like a murmuration of birds and are set free, each movement triggering a unique emotion. I applied the concept of seeing multiple images and seeing music as emotional energy in three dimensions. The piece is built on a steel armature covered in plaster, recycled wire cloth, and baling wire.
photo by Nash Baker
photo by Nash Baker
photo by Nash Baker
photo by Nash Baker
40" X 29" X 55"
steel, reinforced concrete, and wire
image by N. Baker
Society turns a blind eye to the suffering of its most vulnerable.
I was inspired by a homeless man whose posture had physically changed from a lifetime of panhandling. I remember he sat on the ground with his legs crossed and had fallen asleep. His head had fallen forward and sunk beneath his shoulders. His right limb stretched across the concrete walkway impossibly long propped up a beckoning cup—an owl perches on his back, indifferent to his circumstances. Constructed from white concrete and mangled wire, the piece is raw and broken physically as well as in spirit.
detail
steel, reinforced concrete, and wire
photo by Nash Baker
detail of foot
steel, reinforced concrete, and wire
bronze
12” X 5.75” X 2.25”
photo by Nash Baker
At the end of every semester at Glassell, we clean out all the disheveled cabinets and drawers. We throw away broken tools and parts and reorganize the rest. A few years ago, while cleaning out the hammer and chisel drawer, I came across a worn out sledge hammer. Through the worn garish red paint the satiny steel skin of the mallet was unblemished, it had gotten better with age. Its handle on the other hand had not weathered as well. It resembled more of the rugged surface of old drift wood than a powerful hand tool. Its life had been extended several times with layers of duct tape that were now thread bare. I could only imagine over the years how many passionate sculptors had partnered with this handle and mallet to create their dreams; how many artist used it to mold their creations. I loved it for the history it held in the splintered grains of wood of its handle and the silent strength of its barely-red steel mallet. It’s days of hard labor are over. I bought the school a shiny new blue and yellow sledge hammer with a rubber handle and took the old red maul home to rest. Uncertain of its exact future, it rested on my den coffee table for the better of a year. Guests always comment on what a cool tool it was. It sparked unsolicited stories of hard work, of past labors and stubborn relatives. This summer, I decided to make a mold of the old maul. Each casting will tell a different story. This first casting is “You Make Me Stronger,” an ode to great partnerships as in the one with the artist, the handle, and the mallet.
watercolor monotype
44” X 30”
water color monotype
44” X 30”
watercolor monotype
44” X 30'“
wire cloth, plaster and LED spot light
50" X 27" X 16"
photo by Will Michels
January 21, 2017 will go down in history as the date of the Women's March on Washington; when scores of protestors marched in major cities across the US demanding change: Protection of our rights, safety, health, and our families. I finished this female figure the day after the march. I turned my Led flood light on her and her crisp shadow marched off the wall. Her poise, strength and confidence represents today's woman and the changes demanded on January 21,2017.
phto by Will Michels
recycled wire cloth, plaster and LED spot light
72" X 53" X 26"
photo by Will Michels
photo by Will Michels
recycled wire cloth, plaster and LED spot light
55' X 30' X 29"
photo by Will Michels
recycled wire cloth, plaster, and LED spot light
55" X 30" X 29"
photo by Will Michels
photo by Will Milchels
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22'
"The Road" - I was inspired to create this body of work very early on a Sunday morning when I was peacefully driving down Allen Parkway toward downtown. "Could You Be Loved" by Bob Marley was playing on the radio. The asphalt street, slightly curving to the right, sparkled in the glaring sunlight. The moment that I saw them, I was inspired by their images, their lines, the rhythm they shared, and the obvious camaraderie that bound them.
I remember Houston's downtown skyline was lathered in dark shadows; it dripped their silhouettes of oil into puddles. The silhouettes, with broad shoulders and fit waistlines, bobbled back and forth over my dashboard as their black, spindle-like legs pumped the pedals, right- left- right- left- never straying from the pool of their shadow. I stayed a safe distance behind and studied the rhythm of their images. Their body language, their energy, and sense of being part of a pack stayed with me. the series consist of eighteen works on paper, and three lenticulars at present. The largest piece is a triptych 6.5’ X 12’
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
ink
18" X 24"
PHOTO BY RICK WELLS
ink
18" X 24"
PHOTO BY RICK WELLS
ink
18" X 24"
photo by Rick Wells
water color and ink monotype 2017
30" X 22"
photo by Rick Wells
water color and ink momotype 2017
30" X 22"
photo by Rick Wells
bronze sizes vary 2017
photo by Will Michels
Driving home from Austin, I was stuck in traffic and very stressed. My whole body was tense and I was gripping the steering wheel tightly. I looked up to see a giant billboard for one of the Hill Country lazy river family resorts. On the billboard was a stick with roasted marshmallows on it. Instantly, the tension melted away as I was overcome with happy memories. I thought, "Wow! That imagery is so powerful, it drastically changed my mental state. I have to share this." Working on the pieces I felt a little silly, but the more I thought about my bronze sticks with marshmallows on them, the more I realized that the American leisure time tradition of roasting s’mores is a story not only worth sharing but worth telling: families and close friends gathered around a toasty campfire, roasting marshmallows on a stick, telling ghost stories, and making warm, sweet memories. The series presently consist of 11 sticks and 2 dozen single marshmallows.
bronze varies in size 2017
photo by Will Michels
bronze 2017
photo by Will Michels
bronze sizes varies 2017
photo by Will Michels
water color monotype 30" X 110" 2017
“Six members of a single family — four adults and two young boys — and four other swimmers had been swept away by powerful and deceptive rip currents churning below the water’s surface. “
- Washington Post
It was reported that there were not any lifeguards on duty, or rescue vehicles on the beach. Someone yelled, “let’s build a human chain”. Such a beautiful and poetic act I could not resist documenting it with a water color.
water color monotype 30 " X 110" 2017
water color monotype 30" X 110" 2017
water color monotype 30" x 110" 2017
water color monotype 30" X 110" 2017
water color monotype 30" X 110" 2017
21"W X 42"L X 26"T wire 2016
photo by will michels
18"T X 12'W X 36' D wire 2016
photo by will michels
Easter of 2015 - grateful to have both kids in town we decided to go to the Buffalo Bayou Dog Park - all of us. My son Griffin took a slow mo video of our elderly Labrador Kitty. Kitty loved the dog park and would retrieve tennis balls from the pond like she was a two-year-old pup. She would consistently drop the ball at your feet and as you would bend over to pick it up shake all the water off her coat right on to all those standing near by. My son’s video inspired my 2015 “shake shake shake” drawing, lenticular and now wire sculpture series.
22” H X 20” W X 48” D
SIDE VIEW
photo by will michels
variable 72" X 50" X 36"
photo by will michels
20” H X 26” W X 44” D
photo by will michels
41" H X 37" D X 19" W 2016
This piece captures that hyper focused - on the edge look a retrieve gets when they are waiting for their ball to be thrown. You can make them sit before you throw their ball, however it is all they can do not to start running at the first flench of your throw.
detail
39" X 33" X 56"
photo by will michels
39" X 33" X 56"
photo by will michels
39" X 33" X 56"
photo by will michels
36" X 26" X 40" wire 2016
“JUMP”
Is part of a larger body of work I call “shake shake shake”.
"jump" captures that moment when time seems to freeze for a split second; the energy is calm and focused before the big splash landing in a lake. The point of view is from in the water and below the dog.
Here is the back story-
Easter of 2015 - grateful to have both kids in town we decided to go to our local dog Park - all of us. My son Griffin took a slow mo video of our elderly Labrador Kitty. Kitty loved the dog park and would retrieve tennis balls from the pond like she was a two-year-old pup. She would consistently drop the ball at your feet and as you would bend over to pick it up shake all the water off her coat right on to all those standing near by. My son’s video inspired my “shake shake shake” series. The series includes black and white drawings and wire sculptures to express the action and the joy. The latest piece to this series is “jump”. This piece hangs off the ceiling above the viewers.
30" X 22" collage, ink and pastel on stonehenge 2016
50" X 60" collage, ink, gesso and soap
photo by will michels
"fetch I- VI" is part of my "shake shake shake" body of work.
50" X 60" collage, ink, gesso and soap on stonehenge 2016
photo by will michels
50" X 60" collage, ink, gesso and soap on stonehenge 2016
photo by will michels
50" X 60" collage, ink, gesso and soap on stonehenge
photo by will milchels
50" X 60" collage, ink, gesso and soap on stonehenge 2016
photo by will michels
50" X 60" collage, ink, gesso and soap on stonehenge 2016
photo by will michels
50" X 77" collage, ink, charcoal, and pastel 2015
Cranescape Series
A Houston transplant, I am fortunate to find myself living in a major US city.
I grew up in a small, poor border community and seeing a skyline of construction cranes is “emotionally inspiring to me – a symbol of opportunity”. I drew the four monumental pieces in the series the spring/summer of 2015.
This past year while traveling I noticed that Miami, Washington DC, Dallas, Ft. Worth, and New York City all have skylines filled with construction cranes. With a bit of research I learned that the US is experiencing a construction boom.
http://www.forbes.com/sites/erincarlyle/2016/02/10/building-boom-towns-the-metro-areas-with-the-most-new-construction/#e0dba195a5e0
My cranescapes record this moment in US economic history ($469.5 billion in construction starts in 2015).
Each piece in the series is monumental in size
9'6" X 8' pastels, ink, and charcoal 2015
60" X 50" charcoal, ink, and pastel 2015
50" X 64" charcoal, ink and pastel 2015
50" X 60" collage,ink, charcoal and pastels 2016
79" X 50" paint, ink, and pastels on stonehenge 2015
30" X 22" charcoal, ink and bubbles 2015
Easter of 2015 - grateful to have both kids in town we decided to go to the Buffalo Bayou Dog Park - all of us. My son Griffin took a slow mo video of our elderly Labrador Kitty. Kitty loved the dog park and would retrieve tennis balls from the pond like she was a two-year-old pup. She would consistently drop the ball at your feet and as you would bend over to pick it up shake all the water off her coat right on to all those standing near by. My son’s video inspired my “shake shake shake” series.
30" X 22" charcoal, ink, and bubbles 2015
30"X 22" charcoal, ink, and bubbles 2015
30" X 22" charcoal, ink, and bubbles 2015
30" X 22" charcoal, ink and bubbles 2015
4' X 6' charcoal, ink pastels, 2015
4' X 5' charcoal, ink 2015
22" X 30" charcoal, and ink 2015
6' X 7' charcoal, ink and pastel 2015
6'6"X 8' charcoal, pastel and ink 2015
22" X 30" charcoal, pastel and ink 2015
85" x 50" collage, charcoal, ink, and pastel 2015
50" X 60" charcoal, ink and pastel 2015
22" X 30" charcoal and pastel 2015
"The Shadow of the Texas Rangers - late 1920's" The Texas Rangers in Fabens, Texas (a suburb of El Paso) This drawing is from an old photo my grandparents gave me. The shadows were really bad but I always loved the photo. These Texas Rangers used to board with my grand parents when they would go to the Texas/Mexico border during prohibition. My father remembers the Texas Rangers staying with them and going with his father to the edge of the Rio Grande River and leaving money under a rock. The next day someone from Mexico would wade across the river on a mule get the money and leave bottles of booze in a hole under the rock. This is where the term mule came from.
70" X 50" charcoal an ink 2015
30" X 22" charcoal, ink and pastel 2015
Comb Here
This piece is inspired by an out of focus photo I took in 1993. My father stopped by my home as I was taking my son’s Easter photo. To make sure every hair was in place my father of little hair whipped out the comb he always carried in his shirt pocket. The quality of the photo was poor but the moment was priceless.
30" X 22" ink, charcoal and pastel on stonehenge 2015
12" x 10" X 24' bronze and reinforced concrete 2014
photo by Will Michels
12" X 10" X 24' bronze and reinforced concrete detail 2014
photo by Will Michels
10" X 20" X 30" bronze and distressed gold leaf 2014
photo by Will Michels
SUFFRAGE - Riding aside historically represents oppression of women's rights.
his is one of my favorite pieces from my 2014 work. It first resonated with me purely from an aesthetic point of view, as I knew the aged leather would reproduce beautifully in bronze. What I did not realize, however, was that this sculpture would represent more than a stereotypical Texas western symbol.
photo by Will Michels
4" X 13.5 X 12" bronze 2014
detail
4" X 13.5" X 12" bronze 2013
Heritage – ( Robert Fleming Travis)
George Bush International Airport Permanent Collection 2014
One of my favorite treasures is the Stetson Open Road hat I inherited from my grandfather Bob-pa, Robert Fleming Travis. This well-worn hat quietly mirrors my grandfather’s life and character. Shaped by growing up in the Depression, he knew hard times as he later farmed cotton and raised cattle in the harsh West Texas desert near El Paso.
Bob-pa married Imogene Young while they were still in high school. Two years later during their senior year my father was born. Family lore has it that they never spent a night apart during their 70-year marriage.
As a teen I shaped hats in my father's western wear store, and I began to understand that old hats are reflections of their owners, that they keep a bit of the spirit of the person who wore them. Bob-pa's hat still resonates with his determination, his strong work ethic, and his fidelity. These are the very treasures that I work hard to ensure that my own children will inherit.
11" X 12" X 9" bronze 2014
2" X 4" X 6" 2014
photo by Will Michels
17.5" X 19" X 11" found object concrete and bronze 2014
18" X 17.5' X 8" found object concrete and bronze 2014
5' x 4' x 2.5" bronze and reinforced concrete 2012
detail
reinforced concrete 2011
detail of inscription
reinforced concrete and bronze 2013
detail of bronze
34" X 27" X 20" reinforced concrete
detail
36" X 26" x 22" reinforced concrete 2012
detail
33" X 26" X 23" CONCRETE AND IRON 2011
35" x 29" x 22" reinforced concrete 2012
wood 2005
iron 2006
copper, marble and fabric 2006
vintage disco ball, wood, and light bulbs 2015
19" X 24" charcoal 2014
19" X 24" charcoal 2014
19" X 24" charcoal 2014
19" X 24" mixed media 2014
11" X 14" ink 2014
21"W X 42"L X 26"T wire 2016
photo by will michels
18"T X 12'W X 36' D wire 2016
photo by will michels
Easter of 2015 - grateful to have both kids in town we decided to go to the Buffalo Bayou Dog Park - all of us. My son Griffin took a slow mo video of our elderly Labrador Kitty. Kitty loved the dog park and would retrieve tennis balls from the pond like she was a two-year-old pup. She would consistently drop the ball at your feet and as you would bend over to pick it up shake all the water off her coat right on to all those standing near by. My son’s video inspired my 2015 “shake shake shake” drawing, lenticular and now wire sculpture series.
22” H X 20” W X 48” D
SIDE VIEW
photo by will michels
variable 72" X 50" X 36"
photo by will michels
20” H X 26” W X 44” D
photo by will michels
41" H X 37" D X 19" W 2016
This piece captures that hyper focused - on the edge look a retrieve gets when they are waiting for their ball to be thrown. You can make them sit before you throw their ball, however it is all they can do not to start running at the first flench of your throw.
detail
39" X 33" X 56"
photo by will michels
39" X 33" X 56"
photo by will michels
39" X 33" X 56"
photo by will michels
wire cloth, plaster and LED spot light
50" X 27" X 16"
photo by Will Michels
January 21, 2017 will go down in history as the date of the Women's March on Washington; when scores of protestors marched in major cities across the US demanding change: Protection of our rights, safety, health, and our families. I finished this female figure the day after the march. I turned my Led flood light on her and her crisp shadow marched off the wall. Her poise, strength and confidence represents today's woman and the changes demanded on January 21,2017.
phto by Will Michels
recycled wire cloth, plaster and LED spot light
72" X 53" X 26"
photo by Will Michels
photo by Will Michels
recycled wire cloth, plaster and LED spot light
55' X 30' X 29"
photo by Will Michels
recycled wire cloth, plaster, and LED spot light
55" X 30" X 29"
photo by Will Michels
photo by Will Milchels
wire cloth, plaster and LED flood light.
9’ X7’2”
photo by Nash Baker
“It’s a Movement”, is a 4D, kinetic sculpture of five female figures that are made of wire cloth, plaster and shadows.
In my abstract sculpture it is the least amount of detail that creates the energy or life in a piece, and in my burnouts, (the term burnouts refers to the process of using an organic material or ready-made object to create the mold), it is the detail of the wear and tear that is gripping. For example, in “suffrage” it is the distressed and tattered leather that airs the frustrations felt by women struggling for equal rights. In both cases it is capturing the energy or emotion that motivates me.
5.75 “ X 6” X 7”
bronze
2024
image by J. Eshelman
This sculpture is inspired by the essential role roots play within the plant kingdom, which I parallel to the human heart and its critical function of circulating life-giving blood. Just as roots draw nutrients and water from the earth—similar to how our digestive systems process nourishment—the heart pumps lifeblood to sustain us. Through this work, I invite you to reflect on our fundamental interdependence with nature, emphasizing that we are not separate from it.
4" X 13.5" X 12" bronze
image by Nash Baker
Wind Erosion —Like An Old Friend
Using hats as a sculptural material unearthed my artistic voice and shaped my first environmental narrative. Cradled in my youthful memory, hats blew in strange, wonderful ways, spinning from a generation marked by my respect to balancing present responsibilities and fears. My innocence escaped the realization that the consuming wind was not a natural occurrence; it was, in fact, the result of the perfect storms of the 1930s, the dirty '50s, the ‘70s, and the ‘80s dust bowls. Each storm inspired new government environmental policies and land management. By the time I was an adult, Dust Bowl events were no longer events. Their occurrence was familiar and expected. They were like an old friend.
4" X 13.5" X 12" bronze
12" x 10" X 24' bronze and reinforced concrete 2014
photo by Will Michels
12" X 10" X 24' bronze and reinforced concrete detail 2014
photo by Will Michels
bronze
4" X 13.5" X 2.25"
photo by Nash Baker
4" X 8" X 11" bronze and concrete 2015
photos by Will Michele
If there is one thing the members of my family have in common it is that we love animals and we especially love our dogs. My “happy dog” series was inspired by our six year old male labrador Goose. Goose has a way of making you remember to enjoy the moment and appreciate what you have. I have tried to relay this feeling of happiness in my “happy dog" sculptures and numerous drawings.
10" X 20" X 30" bronze and distressed gold leaf 2014
photo by Will Michels
SUFFRAGE - March 3, 1913
Riding aside historically represents oppression of women's rights. Suffragette Inez Milholland rode astride in the 1913 ride/march on Washington. Inez was not only protesting for the right to vote, own property, to sue, but to also to ride astride.
This is my first piece of work that addresses the women’s movement. It first resonated with me purely from an aesthetic point of view, as I knew the aged leather would reproduce beautifully in bronze. What I did not realize, however, was that this sculpture would represent more than a stereotypical Texas western symbol. In my women’s movement body of art it represents the strength of Victorian women and the beginning of the women’s movement, the March 3, 1913 suffrage parade in Washington.
suffrage
Torn billets - whisper tales
of antiquated sexual expectations.
A single iron slipper stirrup - weighs
of masculine oppression.
A lower pommel - lames
fashionable Victorian feminist.
The crackled and distressed girth - surrenders
the scars of suffrage rides.
Riding aside - symbol
of suffrage
detail
photo by Will Michels
4" X 13.5 X 12" bronze 2014
detail
4" X 13.5" X 12" bronze 2013
Heritage – ( Robert Fleming Travis)
George Bush International Airport Permanent Collection 2014
One of my favorite treasures is the Stetson Open Road hat I inherited from my grandfather Bob-pa, Robert Fleming Travis. This well-worn hat quietly mirrors my grandfather’s life and character. Shaped by growing up in the Depression, he knew hard times as he later farmed cotton and raised cattle in the harsh West Texas desert near El Paso.
Bob-pa married Imogene Young while they were still in high school. Two years later during their senior year my father was born. Family lore has it that they never spent a night apart during their 70-year marriage.
As a teen I shaped hats in my father's western wear store, and I began to understand that old hats are reflections of their owners, that they keep a bit of the spirit of the person who wore them. Bob-pa's hat still resonates with his determination, his strong work ethic, and his fidelity. These are the very treasures that I work hard to ensure that my own children will inherit.
12" X 11" X 9" bronze 2015
photo by Nash Baker
12" 11" X 9" bronze detail 2015
photo by Nash Baker
14" X 12" X 12" bronze 2015
photo by Will Michels
14" X 12" X 12" bronze detail 2015
photo by Will Michels
11" X 12" X 9" bronze 2014
2" X 4" X 6" 2014
photo by Will Michels
11 3/4" X 5 3/4" X 7" bronze 2016
'11 3/4" X 5 3/4" X 7" bronze 2016
'11 3/4" X 5 3/4" X 7" bronze 2016
bronze and gold leaf 2016
My husband grew up in Muenster Texas - hence 3 little Muensters. Curtis and his little sisters we're caught on film in the early 60's trying to balance on their heads on the family sofa. The film has since been transferred to a DVD. Watching the DVD for the first time made us all laugh and inspired the initial concept of a sculpture of children standing on their heads.
This sculpture is a composition of 3 young children attempting to balance on their heads. The piece captures the energy between the children and their connection to each other. I took many years of ballet and gymnastics when I was younger and I found it interesting to see one person loose balance and then everyone loose their balance without anyone touching. The force or the energy between objects that you can't see is what these playful pieces capture. In my blog you can follow my creative process of these pieces under headstands.
bronze and gold leaf 2016
9"W X 9.5"T X 7"D
photo by Will Michels
bronze and gold leaf 2016
7.5"W X 13"T X 4"D
photo by Will Michels
11"W X 10.5"T X 4"D bronze and gold leaf 2016
bronze sizes vary 2017
photo by Will Michels
Driving home from Austin, I was stuck in traffic and very stressed. My whole body was tense and I was gripping the steering wheel tightly. I looked up to see a giant billboard for one of the Hill Country lazy river family resorts. On the billboard was a stick with roasted marshmallows on it. Instantly, the tension melted away as I was overcome with happy memories. I thought, "Wow! That imagery is so powerful, it drastically changed my mental state. I have to share this." Working on the pieces I felt a little silly, but the more I thought about my bronze sticks with marshmallows on them, the more I realized that the American leisure time tradition of roasting s’mores is a story not only worth sharing but worth telling: families and close friends gathered around a toasty campfire, roasting marshmallows on a stick, telling ghost stories, and making warm, sweet memories. The series presently consist of 11 sticks and 2 dozen single marshmallows.
bronze varies in size
photo by Will Michels
bronze
photo by Will Michels
bronze sizes varies 2017
photo by Will Michels
bronze
12” X 5.75” X 2.25”
photo by Nash Baker
At the end of every semester at Glassell, we clean out all the disheveled cabinets and drawers. We throw away broken tools and parts and reorganize the rest. A few years ago, while cleaning out the hammer and chisel drawer, I came across a worn-out sledgehammer. Through the worn garish red paint, the satiny steel skin of the mallet was unblemished; it had gotten better with age. Its handle, on the other hand, had not weathered as well. It resembled more of the rugged surface of old driftwood than a powerful hand tool. Its life had been extended several times with layers of duct tape that were now threadbare. I could only imagine over the years how many passionate sculptors had partnered with this handle and mallet to create their dreams; how many artists used it to mold their creations. I loved it for the history it held in the splintered grains of wood of its handle and the silent strength of its barely-red steel mallet. Its days of hard labor are over. I bought the school a shiny new blue and yellow sledgehammer with a rubber handle and took the old red maul home to rest. Uncertain of its exact future, it rested on my den coffee table for the better of a year. Guests always comment on what a cool tool it was. It sparked unsolicited stories of hard work, past labors, and stubborn relatives. This summer, I decided to make a mold of the old maul. Each casting will tell a different story. This first casting is “You Make Me Stronger,” an ode to great partnerships as in the one with the artist, the handle, and the mallet.
I create custom versions of You Make Me Stronger to celebrate strong relationships.
Commissioned piece.
Commissioned piece.
found object concrete and bronze 2014
17.5" X 19" X 11"
photo by Nash Baker
18" X 17.5' X 8" found object concrete and bronze 2014
photo by Nash Baker
5' x 4' x 2.5" bronze and reinforced concrete 2012
detail
50" X 77" collage, ink, charcoal, and pastel 2015
Cranescape Series
A Houston transplant, I am fortunate to find myself living in a major US city.
I grew up in a small, poor border community and seeing a skyline of construction cranes is “emotionally inspiring to me – a symbol of opportunity”. I drew the four monumental pieces in the series the spring/summer of 2015.
This past year while traveling I noticed that Miami, Washington DC, Dallas, Ft. Worth, and New York City all have skylines filled with construction cranes. With a bit of research I learned that the US is experiencing a construction boom.
http://www.forbes.com/sites/erincarlyle/2016/02/10/building-boom-towns-the-metro-areas-with-the-most-new-construction/#e0dba195a5e0
My cranescapes record this moment in US economic history ($469.5 billion in construction starts in 2015).
Each piece in the series is monumental in size
9'6" X 8' pastels, ink, and charcoal 2015
60" X 50" charcoal, ink, and pastel 2015
50" X 64" charcoal, ink and pastel 2015
50" X 60" collage,ink, charcoal and pastels 2016
30” X 22’
22” X 30”
79" X 50" paint, ink, and pastels on stonehenge 2015
30" X 22" charcoal, ink and bubbles 2015
Easter of 2015 - grateful to have both kids in town we decided to go to the Buffalo Bayou Dog Park - all of us. My son Griffin took a slow mo video of our elderly Labrador Kitty. Kitty loved the dog park and would retrieve tennis balls from the pond like she was a two-year-old pup. She would consistently drop the ball at your feet and as you would bend over to pick it up shake all the water off her coat right on to all those standing near by. My son’s video inspired my “shake shake shake” series.
30" X 22" charcoal, ink, and bubbles 2015
30"X 22" charcoal, ink, and bubbles 2015
30" X 22" charcoal, ink, and bubbles 2015
30" X 22" charcoal, ink and bubbles 2015
30" X 22" collage, ink and pastel on stonehenge 2016
50" X 60" collage, ink, gesso and soap
photo by will michels
"fetch I- VI" is part of my "shake shake shake" body of work.
50" X 60" collage, ink, gesso and soap on stonehenge 2016
photo by will michels
50" X 60" collage, ink, gesso and soap on stonehenge 2016
photo by will michels
50" X 60" collage, ink, gesso and soap on stonehenge
photo by will milchels
50" X 60" collage, ink, gesso and soap on stonehenge 2016
photo by will michels
50" X 60" collage, ink, gesso and soap on stonehenge 2016
photo by will michels
4' X 6' charcoal, ink pastels, 2015
4' X 5' charcoal, ink 2015
19" X 24" charcoal 2014
19" X 24" charcoal 2014
19" X 24" charcoal 2014
19" X 24" mixed media 2014
11" X 14" ink 2014
24" X 19" charcoal
“Happy Dog” is a series of drawings and one sculpture. These pieces are inspired by the joyous act expressed by our black labrador Goose, when he rolls onto his back with his paws in the air, without a care in the world, and feeling the goodness of the moment. I will continue with these drawings and will start a life size of the sculpture in the near future. I named the series "Happy Dog" because the comment I always heard when people would see the sculpture for the first time was, "That is one happy dog.”.
24"X 19" charcoal 2014
24" X 19" charcoal 2014
24" X 19' charcoal 2014
24" x 19" charcoal 2014
24" X 19" shoe polish and charcoal 2014
6' X 4' charcoal and ink
19" X 24" charcoal 2015
19" X 24" charcoal 2015
19" X 24" charcoal 2015
19" X 24" mixed media 2015
19" X 24" charcoal 2015
22" X 30" charcoal, and ink 2015
6' X 7' charcoal, ink and pastel 2015
6'6"X 8' charcoal, pastel and ink 2015
22" X 30" charcoal, pastel and ink 2015
85" x 50" collage, charcoal, ink, and pastel 2015
50" X 60" charcoal, ink and pastel 2015
22" X 30" charcoal and pastel 2015
"The Shadow of the Texas Rangers - late 1920's" The Texas Rangers in Fabens, Texas (a suburb of El Paso) This drawing is from an old photo my grandparents gave me. The shadows were really bad but I always loved the photo. These Texas Rangers used to board with my grand parents when they would go to the Texas/Mexico border during prohibition. My father remembers the Texas Rangers staying with them and going with his father to the edge of the Rio Grande River and leaving money under a rock. The next day someone from Mexico would wade across the river on a mule get the money and leave bottles of booze in a hole under the rock. This is where the term mule came from.
70" X 50" charcoal an ink 2015
30" X 22" charcoal, ink and pastel 2015
Comb Here
This piece is inspired by an out of focus photo I took in 1993. My father stopped by my home as I was taking my son’s Easter photo. To make sure every hair was in place my father of little hair whipped out the comb he always carried in his shirt pocket. The quality of the photo was poor but the moment was priceless.
30" X 22" ink, charcoal and pastel on stonehenge 2015
4' X 6' collage, ink and pastels on stonehenge 2015
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22'
I was inspired to create this body of work very early on a Sunday morning when I was peacefully driving down Allen Parkway toward downtown. “Could You Be Loved” by Bob Marley was playing on the radio. The asphalt street, slightly curving to the right, sparkled in the glaring sunlight. The second that I saw the cyclists, I was inspired by their images, their lines, the rhythm they shared, and the obvious camaraderie that bound them. I remember Houston’s downtown skyline was lathered in dark shadows, the construction cranes motionless. The riders’ silhouettes, with broad shoulders and fit waistlines, bobbed back and forth over my dashboard as their black, spindle-like legs pumped the pedals right, left, right, left, never straying from the pool of their shadows, which dripped like oil into puddles. I stayed a safe distance behind and studied the rhythm of their images. Their body language, their energy, and their sense of being part of a pack stayed with me. The series currently consists of eighteen works on paper and three lenticulars.
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
watercolor ink monoprint
30" X 22"
water color and ink monotype 2017
30" X 22"
water color and ink momotype 2017
30" X 22"
water color monotype 30" X 110" 2017
“Six members of a single family — four adults and two young boys — and four other swimmers had been swept away by powerful and deceptive rip currents churning below the water’s surface. “
- Washington Post
It was reported that there were not any lifeguards on duty, or rescue vehicles on the beach. Someone yelled, “let’s build a human chain”. Such a beautiful and poetic act I could not resist documenting it with a water color.
water color monotype 30 " X 110" 2017
water color monotype 30" X 110" 2017
water color monotype 30" x 110" 2017
water color monotype 30" X 110" 2017
water color monotype 30" X 110" 2017
182'“ X 67’
image by Nash Baker
When you witness, or experience a horrific event there are images that hold onto you; images that will forever be conjoined to the experience.
Weathering Houston’s hurricane Harvey, I was glued to the TV and Houston’s social media postings. My eyes soaked up videos of contaminated waters creeping in the homes of nearby neighborhoods. I witnessed daring rescues of families as they were evacuated. In amazement, I watched mothers and children pile into garbage trucks, elderly folks in wheel chairs airlifted by helicopters. Through social media calls for help, it became obvious our cities first responders could not get to every home in need. Proudly, I saw brave Texans convert their flat bottom fishing boats, and jacked up pickup trucks into life rafts and search for those who called for help. No Texan would be left behind.
When our street drained, turning off the news and putting my social media in my pocket, I packed up my dry survivor’s guilt and headed down to the George R. Brown convention center to volunteer and treat my pain and my conscience. The Red Cross had turned one-third of the GRB into a families with pets section. Entering the building with dilated pupils I wove my way through the walk ways created by the clusters of cots and kennels occupied by families and their pets. It struck me that even in the midst of a disaster we humans create neighborhoods and small communities, we are pack animals. I headed towards the pop up pet supply store well stocked from donations made by citizens and the volunteer veterinary clinic where I would be helping out. Careful not to disturb the sleeping citizens of the newly formed families with pets city, I was confronted by a single cot. It was freshly dressed in a crisp white sheet accessorized with a fluffy white pillow and tucked in by a cozy, white flannel blanket decorated with tiny Red Cross logos all over. It was isolated from the others waiting for the next victim of Harvey to tuck themselves in and comfort them with safety. With all the rescue images of people trudging through unsanitary water, homes floating in floodwater fresh in my memory bank that cot was shockingly - humanity. Thirty thousand GRB citizens would be relieved to make it their new homestead. It was heart breaking and beautiful all at the same time. I could imagine if I had been rescued that cot would have been a long-awaited relief. I would not have asked the sheet thread count or if the cotton was grown pesticide free. My heart hurt for all those who were grateful to have such a cot. That cot, that crystal clear image of stripped down humanity, is the Harvey image that holds onto me.
Within weeks, I made two watercolor monotype pieces of the cot. One as I saw it and one with a pet waiting for its owner. I was pleased with their crispness and the delicate watery shapes seen when closely inspected. It occurs to me that the cot was so symbolic to me because of the constant looped eyewitness news reporting and abundance of social media posts. I was seeing the same strong images over and over. From my dry den, I too experienced Harvey.
water color monotype
22'“ X 30
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
watercolor monotype
22” X 30”
watercolor monotype
22” X 30”
watercolor monotype
22” X 30”
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
water color monotype
22'“ X 30”
watercolor monotype
44” X 30”
water color monotype
44” X 30”
watercolor monotype
44” X 30'“
50” X 120”
watercolor monotype
30" X 44"
watercolor monotype
These three pieces are sketches for future work. This is the north fence line sketch.
30" X 44"
watercolor monotype
sketch of the north fence line.
This is the second of three sketches of the proposed installation.
30” X 44”
watercolor monotype
image by Carlos Ocando
Horses are indeed a marvel of sensitivity and emotional energy. Eight months pregnant, Alex, my daughter-in-law, visiting a stable where she used to ride horses, had a beautiful moment with Diva, one of the horses. Even though Alex had never ridden Diva, it was clear that Diva had been affected by her caretaker's recent pregnancy.
Recording this emotional connection, I carefully manipulated watercolor ink and coconut oil into a chaos of independent cells. The placement of these physically independent cells creates the visual representation of a cellular-level spiritual connection between the Baby Whisperer and the unborn child.
This moment is a reminder that all species deserve much more credit than we often give them.
It also underlines how crucial it is to build connections with all creatures to restore and maintain a healthy ecosystem.
30" X 22"
watercolor monotype
image by Carlos Ocando
This body of work consists of 22 pieces. These 22 pieces are experiments with shapes for a proposed installation. An in-depth description can be found here.
PEACE PIGEON/DOVE PROJECT
Artist Statement
In the fall of 2016, I decided to experiment with sculpture materials. I challenged myself to sculpt a new sculpture a week in a different material each week. As my subject, I chose the German beak-crested trumpeter with leg muffs pigeon because he allows me to express a lot of movement and energy. I have many drawings and a bronze sculpture of the German beak trumpeter. From a sculpturing point of view, his feathery feet keep him balanced without a pedestal allowing for lots of expression of energy and emotion.
It turns out that the bird known in the US as a German beak trumpeter pigeon is the same bird that Picasso drew as the peace dove. Everyone knows His famous "peace doves" This pigeon was given to him by Henri Matisse. It is described as a Milanese pigeon. Possibly it was from Milan, but you can tell by the fancy feathers on his feet that it is a German beak-crested trumpeter with leg muffs. In German and French, the term pigeon and dove are interchangeable.
I am no longer committed to sculpting a peace pigeon a week, but I don’t hesitate if a material or found object jumps out at me to turn it into a sculpture. And I am no longer committed to just one bird.
http://www.arttimesjournal.com/art/reviews/May_June_10_Ina_Cole/Pablo_Picasso_Ina_Cole.html
bronze
4" X 13.5" X 2.25"
photo by Nash Baker
up cycled cardboard box
13.5" X 7" X 8"
photo by Nash Baker
drift wood
10" X 10" X 5"
photo by Nash Baker
found object - sombrero
9" X 17' X 13"
photo by Nash Baker
plaster and yard cuttings
photo by Nash Baker
found object - wood
8" X 19" .5"
photo by Nash Baker
bronze
photo by Nash Baker
plaster and hay
photo by Nash Baker
found object - steel
6" X 5.25" X 4.5"
photo by Nash Baker
copper tubing - found object
7.25" X 12" X 8"
photo by Nash Baker
trifoliate orange shrub twig and rock
19" X 19" X 19"
photo by Nash Baker
root and branch- found object
8.5" X 27.5" X 16"
photo by Nash Baker
tamarind wood and glue
9.25" 13" X 13"
photo by Nash Baker
metal screen
14" X 16" X 11"
photo by Nash Baker
baling wire
14" X 15" X 13"
photo by Nash Baker
up cycled wired cloth
11" X 12" 11"
photo by Nash Baker
stone
10” X 5” 6”
photo by Nash Baker