Homage to Cezanne.
Three sisters and their little brother - an adored landscape. Bend, Oregon.
I have known so many great landscapes. I have strode free, skied deeply into valleys - I have LIVED. I feel great expanse inside me.
Clay is earth. When I handle fine wet stone, it speaks of the many mountains it has been ground from. The push and tear of my hands, the smoothing and stretching, is the weight of gravity and the pushing of plates. I fashion the earth I love with only vague recollection or accuracy, but with undying affection.
Cezanne stood in the same place many times, observing his beloved Montagne Saint Victoire. Painting it with strained intensity, yet a familiar inaccuracy, he strove for the soul of the place. His affection for color and paint - his passion for layered space - speak to me directly.
This sculpture is akin to the classic Scholars' Rock: awesome scale in intimate whispers. A secret I share with those close enough to my heart to hear.