When walking through a lush green forest, I often experience a bit of claustrophobia even though I enjoy it immensely. I’m always glad to reach a body of water or meadow so I can see further!

When I visit forested locations, I have every intention of creating installations with some of my objects. I always take a load with me in the car along with my camera on road trips. But something happens when I’m actually in the forest, and my creativity freezes. On my long drive back from Lake Champlain recently, I pondered on why this happens.

As someone who has spent the majority of my life on the high plains west of the 98th parallel where grasslands and cultivated fields dominate the landscape, I am accustomed to seeing the horizon line. I cannot see the horizon line in forests, and I can easily become disoriented. What is space? What is distance? Where is the sun? What direction am I facing? Thick forests have so much shade that it’s even hard to distinguish if the shadows are leaning north, south, east, or west. Since my work involves playing with perspective and size, the trees create a challenge for me. How can I manipulate images so that the objects I make appear different in scale than they are in reality when there are such recognizable reference points like large trees surrounding me?

I’m not really sure what the answer is. I think I’ll have to spend a good amount of time amongst trees to figure it out and see what they and the surroundings say to me. Until that time, I think for now I’ll simply enjoy walks in forests and take in the beauty around me.