In an era described as the Sixth Great Extinction, plants both rare and familiar are at risk, and climate change is accelerating the loss of unique habitats and species. For Uprooted, five Wisconsin artists have created new work focused on the diverse plant communities under threat in Wisconsin. Cynthia Brinich-Langlois and Bethann Moran-Handzlik have turned their attention to the northern forests; Helen Klebesadel and Lynne Railsback have focused on central Wisconsin's prairies and oak savanna; and Katie Musolff looked to wetlands and gardens near the Mississippi River. Uprooted also includes a group of black ash baskets by Marian Miner and birchbark pieces by Terri Hom, as climate change is accelerating the vulnerability of both paper birch and black ash.
These are some of my favorite paintings from the past year. It was a very successful one, so thank you so much for all of your love and support. You help me realize my potential and encourage me to reach further inside myself to see what I am capable of.
Last Shows of the Season:
Plaza Art Fair, Kansas City, MO - Sept 20-22
St. James Court, Louisville, KY - Oct 5-7
Time for the final push.... push, push, push. Squeezing out the last good ideas from my brain onto the last paintings to finish as the daylight hours grow fewer. More, more more. Two more shows, then one... then I can breathe. Don't forget to paint those cool peppers from the garden before we make pasta sauce tonight. Remember, you caught that moth, don't forget to paint it before dark so you can let it go. Oh no, that sun flower is going to seed, quick, paint it before it drops anymore petals. Call your mother, do the laundry, make time for the quiet things..... Nope, no time. Sorry mom, those pants are clean enough, slam that drink.
Enjoy that last of the fall work.
See you in Kansas City and Louisville.
So, it's April, there is snow on the ground, the river partially froze over a few days ago and we've had record lows in the area for this time of year. So, I am stuck painting the specimens I have stored away: shells, feathers, insects. I had to go to the grocery store for the radishes.... sad. But the work is packed and we are on our way to Austin Texas for Art Fair Austin. I hope to see some green, anything green..... eat tacos and get sunburned. It will be great.
Thank you to everyone who came to the show and gave us their support. Whether you purchased a painting or gave us a hug, it all meant so much to Andy and I. We felt so loved and appreciated and that is a great gift. The show will be up through March 17, 2018.
You can visit the website for Tory Folliard Gallery by clicking here.
It's been a long grueling summer and a hectic fall. I've been making a lot of work but it's been under a state of duress. My father had been very sick and then chose to go into hospice in September. I officially put my brushes down and helped my family through this hard time. We sat with him, brought in food, family and friends, and as the time neared - we were quiet and held his hand. We watched Irma sweep into Florida on the tv in his room when there wasn't much to say anymore. And then on Sept 13, he passed away. My dad was my best friend. He taught me how to use watercolor in the first place. Whenever people ask me where I went to school, I always say that my dad taught me how to paint first. Art school didn't teach me squat when it came to watercolor. Thanks to him, I had to basic skills of it down pat by the time I was in middle school. It was built into the bones of my hands and wrists. It's never been a tricky or scary medium, thanks to my early lessons. My dad set me up with a studio in the basement, where he also had his office. I got a big table with a big lamp, lots of supplies and lots of How-To-Draw books. Many of them were his mother's, who also painted.
A good deal of the art I made these past two years had underlying meanings as my dad's health grew worse and my family went through a lot of upheaval. I deal with death quite a bit in my work and I am not afraid to look at it in they eye. It's a very sacred part of life. The absence of life sticks to us. To say that I will 'miss my dad' is just the tip of what I feel. Thank you to everyone who has helped us out and been so supportive.