When I moved to New Mexico several years ago , and my husband and I bought our first home , we asked the realtor and the nearest neighbor about the weather . We were closing on our house in December , so we asked about snow . The realtor and our new neighbor assured us , " this area of New Mexico rarely gets snow ." Well , you guessed it , the day we drove down our mile-long dirt driveway with a huge moving van , the 10 inches of snow was apparently a " first " — as you see from the photo below . As I ' m writing this afternoon , more snowflakes are in the air . With no heat except a small wood stove in one room , I thank goodness for the small benefit of being an encaustic artist — the palette doubles as a room heater ! Winter can be harsh !
FROM THE EDITOR
Something about winter invites introspection . For me , that creates a desire to spend more time in the studio than in other seasons . This season leaves me wanting to pare down , to clear away the clutter in my mind and environment . The spring and summer months ' explosion of life and greenery distracts me . As with falling snowflakes and the range of colors narrowing with the cold , I long for more simplicity and clarity in my work and life .
The work featured here somehow mirrors that . For me , there is a minimalism , a feeling that the work has been pared down to its essentials — whether in color or clarity of vision . I find all the work in this issue to be incredibly inspiring .
Wherever you are , no matter what the weather , I hope you ' ll find more time in your studio and that you , too , will be inspired by the work in this issue !
Thanks for reading !
“ The color of springtime is in the flowers ; the color of winter is in the imagination .”
— Terri Guilemets