May, 2005 Exhibit

EARTH AND SUN

NEW EARTH PAINTINGS AND DRAWINGS
BY PETER KINNEY

main page | statement | images | press release & cv

An artist’s statement

My continued love of the earth, the soil, the rock, the mud,
the plants, the animals, the sky….and…
how to express this is my continuing theme.

Earth changes color according to the quality of light that strikes it. My evolution is that of a cycle of a day or the seasons. I am moving from the moon’s province into the fullness of the sun.

How to seize a moment of beauty?

Patterns of grasses in raking, late afternoon light on Boulder Mountain, Utah. The sage hens observing me more intently than I could them.

Orange light creeping down the red cliffs of the Colorado River Gorge at daybreak. Ravens floating in it, croaking over the green-gray water.

Play in the Haverford art room with my students, using their gifts of sands, their humor, their open sense of possibility.

My back yard under the cherry and maple trees—imagination, swirling play, searching for the mysteries with watery muds, color, and what floats in from sky, stream, or chewing squirrel’s mouth.

Exploring more color in relation to discovered earths.

I made another trip through Colorado and Utah last summer, exploring new lands, and visiting old friends.

And collecting more earth.

Pinnacles and buttes, spirits of the waterpocket fold, cracks and stains in the massive cliffs continue to speak to me, conjuring my incantations in texture and color.

I am grateful to so many people who have given me muds, sands, ideas, their smiles, their humor, and flashing eyes.

I dedicate this show to my students,
past and present, who have given me so much of their vitality and creativity. Together we have shared an adventure second to none:
learning from our splashes,
being astonished,
staying open to all possibilities of visual experience,
letting ourselves be vaulted by beauty and love.

Peter Kinney
March 1, 2005

A Colorado-Utah journal,
late July-early August, 2004
by PETER KINNEY

Saturday 6:24 am.
Camped on a wild bluff
over Gunnison valley-
brilliant dawn,
blazing star in the East.
I gaze at the San Juans 100 miles southeast.

I want to caress their flanks
as the emerging sun does,
fly right at them
like the ravens,
walk over and down the other side,
find the south flowing sister
of Cimarron Creek,
where I walked two years ago.

Goldfinch perches at the tip of a cedar,
Scrub Jays squawk,
urging me on.

Morning at Star Springs, South Henry Mountains
Rolling out of zipper-broken tent,
dust and sweat caking up on my skin,
I watch the sun rise through the scrub oak grove.
Chickadees hop, clean the branches.
Green glow the leaves.

Back to an old love-
Capitol Reef and its apricot grove,
sloshing in the Freemont River,
I kneel in the flash flood mud,
grab handfuls for my sketchbook,
release dreams
and spirits
from the tips of my fingers-

Everything seems possible.

main page | statement | images | press release & cv