This time of year, in a year I think we can all acknowledge as extraordinary, puts me in mind of something my mother used to say. “I’m always sad to see the fall color start to come down,” she’d say, and smile. “But then I remember the views.”
I grew up in rural Appalachia in North Carolina, and we had views on even the most mundane daily errands. The mountains rolling away in demure grays and browns, glowing and soft and unexpectedly splendid as the feathers of a dove. And when the fall leaves dropped away, those views expanded and multiplied, giving a window to places we hadn’t seen before.
This year is a little like that, I think. Quarantine life is just as bland as those grays and browns, but in some ways, isn’t it also as beautiful? The time spent with loved ones, the opportunity to bear witness to the tiny daily changes of our growing children, the revival of hobbies we’d long ago set aside, the space to read and write and think and be, so rare in this contemporary world. It doesn’t mean that the fall leaves going away isn’t a little sad, and it certainly doesn’t mean that a pandemic isn’t a global tragedy. But I do think it means that life is beautiful in a thousand small, unexpected ways, if only we’re looking for them.
White Space echoes these ideas using stark, wintery compositions in deep, vibrant jewel tones. The abstract landscapes are full and beautiful even as they are bare of foliage, echoing the splendor of the winter season. These pieces are rich with texture and warmth, and invite you to reflect on the unexpected gifts in your life.