Still light…

My series Still Light… began by chance when my focus shifted from the light in the endless expanse of sky and the vast prairie landscape and I started paying attention to what the morning sun was doing in the confined space of my living room.  The series evolved over approximately two years as the sun made its way across the room, from solstice to solstice, and back again. What I was able to capture often depended on what the clouds were doing, or what filter of haze or dust or smoke happened to be hanging in the air, or the particular angle of the light as it pushed its way in through the curtains and refracted through different glass vessels.  I sought to evoke a sense of stillness and mystery and capture the surprises created by light that is always active and on the move, never static.    

The images I was making took on even greater significance for me following the sudden death of my son in February 2020, and the image that I cling to of the light and stillness and mystery that engulfed him at the moment he breathed his last.  The anticipation of seeing what the light might be creating was often the only thing that enabled me to get out of bed on many mornings during the suffocating grief and the lonely isolation of the coronavirus lockdown as I made my passage through the ‘valley of the shadow’ and sought to know that there is still light…