A recent drive through wine country had me stopping me in my tracks. I drove past fields in which I thought Andy Goldsworthy had been set loose. Piles of black wood were perfectly heaped in fields of brilliant yellow. Fields of 3D Rothkos. It was stark, yet lush and so insanely stunning. I was observing the work of a farmer and mother nature, not some handsomely paid commission.
Dead and dormant vines surrounded by fields of yellow mustard grass flowers. The contrasts of black versus brilliant yellow, carefully tended vines versus wild growth, life versus death all demanded stopping and taking in all I could learn from it. I took photos, did some sketching and a body of work is mulling.
Thankyou.
