Becoming River

Early one morning at the end of April, I stood thigh deep in a near-freezing river. The sharp glow of the sun was just cresting the tree-covered ridge above me turning the light from dull blue-gray to a shimmer of golden stripes. My aim was to fish for trout, but that is only ever a small part of being on the river. My purpose was to bathe in nature; to witness the strange, bobbing dance of a woodcock before she flew, to listen to the chatter of the river as she flowed past me; to drench myself in the changing light of a woodland morning. As I approached a bend, on the far side of which was an ideal fishing hole, I saw it: the log! I had walked this stretch before passing this very spot, but this time, the morning light flashed upon it like a beacon. Once a tree standing tall on the bank, the river or a storm or old age had claimed it, casting it down into the cold water below. The remnants of its roots still clung to the bank now eroded to white bone. Chartreuse grasses and moss grew along its flank made more vibrant by the shock of orange lichen blanketing what was left of the woodgrain. This once stately tree now hovered over the water, its edges sculpted smooth, mimicking the river’s ripples and eddies. The log was becoming river.  Transfixed, I nearly lost my balance. My fingers brushed the cold water and I came back to myself before I fell, aware now of the cold hug of the river pushing against my waders. I knew then that this river, like all rivers, was power. Her desire was to claim and to pull, to turn everything she touched into herself.  I took a step, and then another lest I, too, become river.

Medium: Color-Reduction Woodcut
Year: 2024
Edition Size: 16
Image Size: 14" x 20"
Paper Size: 18" x 24"
Paper Type: Rives BFK

Framing Option: 22" x 28" black aluminum frame with white matboard and regular glass.