New Moon Video :: Cottonwood
Published on July 22, 2017
In June of 2018 my family and I are moving to Costa Rica. Before we leave, my husband Hansel and I have decided to create a project together that is part love letter and part thanksgiving to the beautiful state of Arizona that we have made our home for the last 11 years.
As a family we are visiting places that are near and dear to our hearts and connecting with them in the ways we do best as individual artists — I through painting, Hansel through video and photography.
Each month we will release our video collaboration on the New Moon — which to us signifies new beginnings as well as the end of a cycle. My intention with these paintings is not to paint what I see — but rather to connect with the Earth more intimately and express my sincerest gratitude for all that this land and this time here has both taught and given me.
You can view our Eleven New Moon videos HERE.
Today I introduce our second video in our series: Cottonwood.
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Mother Earth holds us in more ways then we are always aware of.
It’s easy to notice how she nourishes us with food, water, and medicine.
But when I look even closer, I see so clearly how she holds the parts of ourselves that no longer exist. The parts that only appear as memories and stories forgotten.
Today’s New Moon Video was shot in Prescott, Arizona a city that Hansel and I have a deep and abiding love for.
Maybe it’s all the green that draws our hearts.
Or maybe in a past life we ourselves were a Cottonwood, a Willow, or a Ponderosa Pine that lived here.
What I do know is that Hansel and I used to come here all the time before Phoenix was born. He would shoot elaborate photos and I would sit and sketch.
Time kept a different rhythm then. Our lives a different landscape.
But of all the places in Arizona, I feel closest to who I once was when I am here. And maybe that’s why watching Phoenix in this video playing and staying so near me gets me all choked up.
Because I can remember how he too was here with us, before he ever joined us in the flesh. Before I ever heard his laughter or felt his hand in mine — he was calling to us from the Cottonwoods — singing to us through the tall grass.
So I’ll say it again — Mother Earth holds us in more ways then we are always aware of.
When I look close enough I see my ancestors in the tree bark and sometimes…only sometimes…I catch a glimpse of the generations after me, when a leaf gently floats through the air.
Thank you Prescott, Arizona — for sculpting my family with your soft, gentle breezes, towering Cottonwood trees, and your wise and wonderful dells.
Thank you. Thank you Prescott. Thank you.