Thérèse L. Provenzano
There is something about a shape that mirrors itself and is a curve. The curve was nestled comfortably in the field and yet it seemed to be on its own, independent of everything else.
My residency at Rolling Acres Farm provided a new lay of land to digest, en plein air. The sky read imposing, vast or aloof. Rain and clouds made their presence known. An overhead tarp supported with wooden stakes, gorilla tape and rope became a make shift workspace, outdoors.
My initial intent as resident was to create work using the landscape and my collection of scythes. Reaching and digesting the land, alone and unencumbered without the scythes, took precedence. Authenticity develops when origin is undisputed. My initial intent still lies there.