In 2017 the farm where my brothers and sisters and I grew up was sold almost a century after our grandfather bought the property, which is located in a far corner of Warren County on the Big Black River. With the sale of the place I had known and loved all my life and where my husband Kos and I had returned to live 28 years ago, I felt a pressing need to photograph and paint the farm, to celebrate its sounds and smells, its homes and barns, and its singular place of worship, Rose Hill Church. These buildings, with their long and complex histories, go back far beyond my lifetime, but they still resonate with the lives they sheltered and contained. I wanted to record and remember the farm in all its various colors and seasons, and I wanted to express my love for the place where I was born and raised. I wanted to celebrate its trees and flowers, originally planted and tended by my grandmother and mother, and now maintained by my sister Hester and cousin Minor. And I wanted to celebrate the people, black and white, for whom the farm has always been home. Though they may not appear in most of these landscapes, their presence figures strongly in each one. Many of those people are gone now, forever missed. These paintings are inspired by the beautiful world they worked so hard to create and by the cherished memories they leave behind.

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