Original hand-carved linoleum prints on hand torn archival cotton paper. Printed by hand pressing with water-soluble oil inks, 14in x 11in. Print comes packaged with a cardboard backing and a vellum protection sleeve.

Story behind the print:

This piece marks January 2022. The beginning of what will very likely be the hottest year in instrumental record and the coolest year of the rest of our lives. I choose this image because I met a tree in the summer - a Douglas Fir - in the North Cascades. The tree had been hit by lightning and was burned down one face of the tree. At the time, I was with a women named Rachel on her tribal lands, exploring her indigenous food practices and harvesting traditions.

And we stopped by this beautiful tree - selected out of the sheer galaxy of trees in the second growth forests - and just marveled. This is life, too. Sometimes you are struck by lightning, through no choice of your own. And afterwards, you still grow, you are still whole, you are still beautiful.

I've thought about this tree for a long time, and in some ways there are parallels between this simple tree and our planet. Sometimes a planet is also, metaphorically, struck by lightning, through no fault of its own. Are there other planets in the universe, planets where life also has developed, that might also be "struck by lightning"? Could we observe this signal in the ancient celestial light that reaches us?

Ultimately, lightning (or change, or trauma, or loss) is a part of life. What kind of growth could be possible afterwards?