Huge gratitude to Bold Journey mag for the opportunity to dig into my studio practice and creative perspectives in this interview out today.
Link in studio bio
Tintype by @_slowmedown
On Sunday, International Women’s Day kicked off the 71st Whirly Girls annual gala and meeting celebrating this kickasssssssss community of international women helicopter pilots that I’ve come to know over the past 3 days.
Deeply moved by each JAM PACKED moment of exchanging stories crammed into a table, lobby corner or meeting room — stories of how we each grew a love of flying.
Cindy flying rescue missions for 9/11 and flying helis in the Army in ‘79.
Diane’s experience as the FIRST woman heli instrument pilot in the US Army.
Janette delivering a flag to the USS Missouri tied on a buoy that she threw out into the water.
Holly fully taking me under her wings to pull up my seat at this table.
To feel so welcomed by these fervent women of barrier defying mojo makes each roadblock feel less of an impossible challenge — each embodying what is possible in our vacillating times and what they have broken through in the field of aviation as women for future aviators.
Being open about what is a profound challenge, offering an alternative approach and listening to ensure we fly as safely as we possibly can, and that each flight is one that brings us home.
I am overcome with love and appreciation for my stepdad, late flight instructor Jonathan Guibas and the larger than life Andy Gibbs, a giant of my upbringing that would hop in an R22 to fly back to the office if he forgot something 🤣 — 3 souls who breathe(d) the spirit of flight and helicopters into my life, carving part of my path to this community.
It is an honor to be shepherded into this world of possibility.
The sky isn’t the limit, it is just the beginning ⚡️
Five years ago on the morning my dad passed away, I came to see Randee’s Japanese apricot tree.
We stood beneath, distanced, Randee with shears in her hands. I watched her cut two branches, telling stories as she fully scoped her head around each bloom — talk of seasons, cycles and timing.
I drove around all morning with the branches in the passenger seat, later to bring one to my love.
Soon after I passed these branches on came the news of my dad. Branches that were then placed in flowers from friends through Kelsey and over time, the tree began to bloom earlier each year.
I walked up to the house this morning to see blooms wrapped in the Times — one bee stirring in the bouquet to savor the pollen.
We walked the tree this morning —
thinking of all the things I wish I could tell you.
Things I know you know.
But my god, how I wish I could tell you myself.
that we’re all ok
that Lars looks just like you
that I finally found the cheese you used to eat with lavash and quince jam in Richmond
that you are on my mind
that I miss how many times you said bye hanging up the phone
Worlds have happened in these past years and in them stand these beautiful blooms to call in the bees and summon visits — tied up in love and honor as we trek on.
Thrilled to share that I will be giving an artist talk about contemporary marksmanship in silk marbling at my alma mater on February 27.
I’ll walk through the history of marbling, expand on my time in LU’s Artist Books and Printmaking concentration, and dig into 3 recent bodies of studio work.
This will be the first time touching on research and sharing images from my new series, Flight Scores: Land Notations.
Talk is open to the public! See you there ⚡️
Artist Talk: Contemporary Marksmanship in Silk Marbling
Friday, February 27, 12:30pm
Bedford Hall Auditorium at Longwood University
424 Race St, Farmville, VA
Photos courtesy of @_slowmedown
“Just fly into the wind”..... these words have rung in my ears since my flight instructor walked on this month.
I was lucky enough to copilot the final helicopter delivery of his beautiful career of flight to North Dakota in March.
Every night of the trip, we’d find a diner to post up in — he’d order a large sprite with 6 lemons, then we’d chow down and talk about the day, our families and stories of other ferry trips.
I’ll never forget fueling up for our final hours of flying… After two and a half brutal days of overcast wind and storms, the sky just opened up and we flew into the sun over frozen lakes.
I took this picture just after we exhaustingly laughed in complete disbelief at the surreal weather shift. This is how he smiled every single time we flew — if I aced a radio call or when I finally got the hang of something we’d been working at.
Jonathan fully took me under his wing as an aviation mentor, but with each hour in the air, we became friends speaking the language of airspace.
He loved to share everything — videos to improve landing approaches, crash reports to study, and stories about his sons.
It is crushing to lose someone that so heartfully believes in you, amidst the momentum of dedication and practice together.
Some of the best mornings from the past two years have been jumping in the car and driving to this guy for an early lesson.
Holding every aviation aphorism and hour in my log book close, as he reminds us to fly right into what feels out of reach — with an open heart, a sick sac and six lemons
