New Mexico

Asparagus in Bloom, limited edition photograph, archival ink, signed and numbered Holding Arabesque is an inward reflection that investigates our relationship with food and nostalgi...

Cupcake Sundae, limited edition photograph, archival photograph, signed Holding Arabesque is an inward reflection that investigates our relationship with food and nostalgia and how...

Cherry On Top, limited edition photograph, archival, signed and numbered Holding Arabesque is an inward reflection that investigates our relationship with food and nostalgia and ho...

Bending the Rule, limited edition photograph, archival ink, signed and numbered Holding Arabesque is an inward reflection that investigates our relationship with food and nostalgia...

Buddha's Hand, limited edition photograph, archival ink, signed and numbered Holding Arabesque is an inward reflection that investigates our relationship with food and nostalgia an...

Above the Curve, limited edition photograph, archival ink, signed and numbered Holding Arabesque is an inward reflection that investigates our relationship with food and nostalgia...

Forbidden Fruit, limited edition photograph, archival photograph, signed Holding Arabesque is an inward reflection that investigates our relationship with food and nostalgia and ho...

Common Thread, Counting Sheep, limited edition photograph, archival photograph Holding Arabesque is an inward reflection that investigates our relationship with food and nostalgia a...

Finnish photographer Pentti Sammallahti depicts nature, eroded and broken down by civilization, but does not put man and the environment in opposite camps. He sees an equal relations...

Finnish photographer Pentti Sammallahti depicts nature, eroded and broken down by civilization, but does not put man and the environment in opposite camps. He sees an equal relations...

Finnish photographer Pentti Sammallahti depicts nature, eroded and broken down by civilization, but does not put man and the environment in opposite camps. He sees an equal relations...

Finnish photographer Pentti Sammallahti depicts nature, eroded and broken down by civilization, but does not put man and the environment in opposite camps. He sees an equal relations...

Finnish photographer Pentti Sammallahti depicts nature, eroded and broken down by civilization, but does not put man and the environment in opposite camps. He sees an equal relations...

Finnish photographer Pentti Sammallahti depicts nature, eroded and broken down by civilization, but does not put man and the environment in opposite camps. He sees an equal relations...

Finnish photographer Pentti Sammallahti depicts nature, eroded and broken down by civilization, but does not put man and the environment in opposite camps. He sees an equal relations...

Finnish photographer Pentti Sammallahti depicts nature, eroded and broken down by civilization, but does not put man and the environment in opposite camps. He sees an equal relations...

Finnish photographer Pentti Sammallahti depicts nature, eroded and broken down by civilization, but does not put man and the environment in opposite camps. He sees an equal relations...

Finnish photographer Pentti Sammallahti depicts nature, eroded and broken down by civilization, but does not put man and the environment in opposite camps. He sees an equal relations...

Finnish photographer Pentti Sammallahti depicts nature, eroded and broken down by civilization, but does not put man and the environment in opposite camps. He sees an equal relations...

Patty Carroll has been known for her use of highly intense, saturated color photographs since the 1970’s. Her most recent project, “Anonymous Women,” consists of a 3-part series of s...

Patty Carroll has been known for her use of highly intense, saturated color photographs since the 1970’s. Her most recent project, “Anonymous Women,” consists of a 3-part series of s...

Patty Carroll has been known for her use of highly intense, saturated color photographs since the 1970’s. Her most recent project, “Anonymous Women,” consists of a 3-part series of s...

Chaco Terada, originally from Japan, was trained at a young age in the art of calligraphy. When Chaco was in her twenties she had the opportunity to work on her calligraphy in ten co...

Chaco Terada, originally from Japan, was trained at a young age in the art of calligraphy. When Chaco was in her twenties she had the opportunity to work on her calligraphy in ten co...

Chaco Terada, originally from Japan, was trained at a young age in the art of calligraphy. When Chaco was in her twenties she had the opportunity to work on her calligraphy in ten co...

Chaco Terada, originally from Japan, was trained at a young age in the art of calligraphy. When Chaco was in her twenties she had the opportunity to work on her calligraphy in ten co...

Chaco Terada, originally from Japan, was trained at a young age in the art of calligraphy. When Chaco was in her twenties she had the opportunity to work on her calligraphy in ten co...

Chaco Terada, originally from Japan, was trained at a young age in the art of calligraphy. When Chaco was in her twenties she had the opportunity to work on her calligraphy in ten co...

fabricated steel

Kate Breakey's artistic process is an act of investigation – a passionate attempt to establish an understanding of the natural world – a version that incorporates both intellectual a...

Aspen Trail- Fall, color etching,John Hogan, yellows, gold, landscape forest hand pulled limited edition color etching 22 x 30 paper size 18 x 24 image size unframed edition signed ...

Night Fall From Studio, John Hogan, Santa Fe landscape rose blue yellow etching hand pulled 7 color etching edition 50 22 x 30 paper size 17.5 x 2...

unique monotype 14" x 18" paper size 9" x 11.5" image size unframed

The implied act of opening the boxes, releases the energy of the occupants, allowing them to take flight. The people and objects confined within, through the simple act of unfolding,...

The implied act of opening the boxes, releases the energy of the occupants, allowing them to take flight. The people and objects confined within, through the simple act of unfolding,...

The implied act of opening the boxes, releases the energy of the occupants, allowing them to take flight. The people and objects confined within, through the simple act of unfolding,...

The implied act of opening the boxes, releases the energy of the occupants, allowing them to take flight. The people and objects confined within, through the simple act of unfolding,...

The implied act of opening the boxes, releases the energy of the occupants, allowing them to take flight. The people and objects confined within, through the simple act of unfolding,...

Buffalo by Doug Hyde stone sculpture grey small Nez Perce Stone sculpture , no signature acquired directly from the artist in the 1970's abstract buffalo

Saucer Over Northern Plains, limited edition, signed, archival pigment ink The adrenaline of seeing Mother Nature during some of her finest moments will be ingrained in me forever. It is a humbling experience - and I feel fortunate to have witnessed her power and grandeur over the past 12 years. My experiences are hard to describe in words During this last trip (July 2021) we traveled over 6400 miles in 10 days crossing through 10 different states - all in my quest/passion to photograph these storm systems. But this time the events of the last year made me more aware, opened my eyes wider, and had a different effect on me. The effects of Climate Change have become obvious. The current patterns are changing and they are accelerating faster than anyone realized or predicted. Just over the past decade, the characteristics of the Jet Stream and the Gulf Stream have changed. Pandemics, droughts, devastating heatwaves, wildfires, massive floods, and rising oceans are accelerating. As I sit here in my house in Lone Pine, CA in 103-degree heat I can hardly see the outlines of Lone Pine Peak and Mount Whitney...

For those of us who live in the West, mountains are more than just landmarks; they dene a sense of home. We have memories associated with our mountains; those we grew up surrounded b...

For those of us who live in the West, mountains are more than just landmarks; they dene a sense of home. We have memories associated with our mountains; those we grew up surrounded by; remembering the rst time we saw one, and the people we visited them with. This gave us all a larger sense of where we locate home. During our recent pandemic, home shrunk to the walls that surrounded us. Real experiences became mediated through computers and the Internet – but something felt lost: a living connection with things bigger than ourselves. But we kept our memories – waiting to be triggered by a photograph or reminder of the mountains that could bring back that sense of the sublime. Mountains and nature have long been places of peace and refuge. There are few emotions about places for which adequate single words exist. At the beginning of the eighteenth century, the word sublime arose to describe the feelings that the natural world can evoke in us. At home, on my kitchen table, I have been trying to capture something of that sublime in bits of plastic. Using geographical data from the Internet, I used my 3D printer to make the memories of those mountains tangible. With a small fog machine, I create atmospheres and clouds. Sunlight through a window illuminates some, while others were lit with a variety of sources including ber optic lights used for microscopy. For me, these images evoke the place I call home; and remind me that it is our memories that make a place special. At Home in the West was created as a companion to Yosemite: Seeking Sublime, which premiered at photo-eye Gallery in November 2020. In December of that year, work from that series was invited to the Art of Staying at Home; Artists in the Time of Corona exhibition at the Bibliotheca Alexandrina in Egypt, where I was the only U.S. artist from eight countries included. Additional works from that series will soon be exhibited at the Krakow Triennial in Poland and at the Earth Photo...

For those of us who live in the West, mountains are more than just landmarks; they dene a sense of home. We have memories associated with our mountains; those we grew up surrounded by; remembering the rst time we saw one, and the people we visited them with. This gave us all a larger sense of where we locate home. During our recent pandemic, home shrunk to the walls that surrounded us. Real experiences became mediated through computers and the Internet – but something felt lost: a living connection with things bigger than ourselves. But we kept our memories – waiting to be triggered by a photograph or reminder of the mountains that could bring back that sense of the sublime. Mountains and nature have long been places of peace and refuge. There are few emotions about places for which adequate single words exist. At the beginning of the eighteenth century, the word sublime arose to describe the feelings that the natural world can evoke in us. At home, on my kitchen table, I have been trying to capture something of that sublime in bits of plastic. Using geographical data from the Internet, I used my 3D printer to make the memories of those mountains tangible. With a small fog machine, I create atmospheres and clouds. Sunlight through a window illuminates some, while others were lit with a variety of sources including ber optic lights used for microscopy. For me, these images evoke the place I call home; and remind me that it is our memories that make a place special. At Home in the West was created as a companion to Yosemite: Seeking Sublime, which premiered at photo-eye Gallery in November 2020. In December of that year, work from that series was invited to the Art of Staying at Home; Artists in the Time of Corona exhibition at the Bibliotheca Alexandrina in Egypt, where I was the only U.S. artist from eight countries included. Additional works from that series will soon be exhibited at the Krakow Triennial in Poland and at the Earth Photo...

For those of us who live in the West, mountains are more than just landmarks; they dene a sense of home. We have memories associated with our mountains; those we grew up surrounded by; remembering the rst time we saw one, and the people we visited them with. This gave us all a larger sense of where we locate home. During our recent pandemic, home shrunk to the walls that surrounded us. Real experiences became mediated through computers and the Internet – but something felt lost: a living connection with things bigger than ourselves. But we kept our memories – waiting to be triggered by a photograph or reminder of the mountains that could bring back that sense of the sublime. Mountains and nature have long been places of peace and refuge. There are few emotions about places for which adequate single words exist. At the beginning of the eighteenth century, the word sublime arose to describe the feelings that the natural world can evoke in us. At home, on my kitchen table, I have been trying to capture something of that sublime in bits of plastic. Using geographical data from the Internet, I used my 3D printer to make the memories of those mountains tangible. With a small fog machine, I create atmospheres and clouds. Sunlight through a window illuminates some, while others were lit with a variety of sources including ber optic lights used for microscopy. For me, these images evoke the place I call home; and remind me that it is our memories that make a place special. At Home in the West was created as a companion to Yosemite: Seeking Sublime, which premiered at photo-eye Gallery in November 2020. In December of that year, work from that series was invited to the Art of Staying at Home; Artists in the Time of Corona exhibition at the Bibliotheca Alexandrina in Egypt, where I was the only U.S. artist from eight countries included. Additional works from that series will soon be exhibited at the Krakow Triennial in Poland and at the Earth Photo...

For those of us who live in the West, mountains are more than just landmarks; they dene a sense of home. We have memories associated with our mountains; those we grew up surrounded by; remembering the rst time we saw one, and the people we visited them with. This gave us all a larger sense of where we locate home. During our recent pandemic, home shrunk to the walls that surrounded us. Real experiences became mediated through computers and the Internet – but something felt lost: a living connection with things bigger than ourselves. But we kept our memories – waiting to be triggered by a photograph or reminder of the mountains that could bring back that sense of the sublime. Mountains and nature have long been places of peace and refuge. There are few emotions about places for which adequate single words exist. At the beginning of the eighteenth century, the word sublime arose to describe the feelings that the natural world can evoke in us. At home, on my kitchen table, I have been trying to capture something of that sublime in bits of plastic. Using geographical data from the Internet, I used my 3D printer to make the memories of those mountains tangible. With a small fog machine, I create atmospheres and clouds. Sunlight through a window illuminates some, while others were lit with a variety of sources including ber optic lights used for microscopy. For me, these images evoke the place I call home; and remind me that it is our memories that make a place special. At Home in the West was created as a companion to Yosemite: Seeking Sublime, which premiered at photo-eye Gallery in November 2020. In December of that year, work from that series was invited to the Art of Staying at Home; Artists in the Time of Corona exhibition at the Bibliotheca Alexandrina in Egypt, where I was the only U.S. artist from eight countries included. Additional works from that series will soon be exhibited at the Krakow Triennial in Poland and at the Earth Photo...

For those of us who live in the West, mountains are more than just landmarks; they dene a sense of home. We have memories associated with our mountains; those we grew up surrounded b...

For those of us who live in the West, mountains are more than just landmarks; they dene a sense of home. We have memories associated with our mountains; those we grew up surrounded by; remembering the rst time we saw one, and the people we visited them with. This gave us all a larger sense of where we locate home. During our recent pandemic, home shrunk to the walls that surrounded us. Real experiences became mediated through computers and the Internet – but something felt lost: a living connection with things bigger than ourselves. But we kept our memories – waiting to be triggered by a photograph or reminder of the mountains that could bring back that sense of the sublime. Mountains and nature have long been places of peace and refuge. There are few emotions about places for which adequate single words exist. At the beginning of the eighteenth century, the word sublime arose to describe the feelings that the natural world can evoke in us. At home, on my kitchen table, I have been trying to capture something of that sublime in bits of plastic. Using geographical data from the Internet, I used my 3D printer to make the memories of those mountains tangible. With a small fog machine, I create atmospheres and clouds. Sunlight through a window illuminates some, while others were lit with a variety of sources including ber optic lights used for microscopy. For me, these images evoke the place I call home; and remind me that it is our memories that make a place special. At Home in the West was created as a companion to Yosemite: Seeking Sublime, which premiered at photo-eye Gallery in November 2020. In December of that year, work from that series was invited to the Art of Staying at Home; Artists in the Time of Corona exhibition at the Bibliotheca Alexandrina in Egypt, where I was the only U.S. artist from eight countries included. Additional works from that series will soon be exhibited at the Krakow Triennial in Poland and at the Earth Photo...

For those of us who live in the West, mountains are more than just landmarks; they dene a sense of home. We have memories associated with our mountains; those we grew up surrounded b...

For those of us who live in the West, mountains are more than just landmarks; they dene a sense of home. We have memories associated with our mountains; those we grew up surrounded by; remembering the rst time we saw one, and the people we visited them with. This gave us all a larger sense of where we locate home. During our recent pandemic, home shrunk to the walls that surrounded us. Real experiences became mediated through computers and the Internet – but something felt lost: a living connection with things bigger than ourselves. But we kept our memories – waiting to be triggered by a photograph or reminder of the mountains that could bring back that sense of the sublime. Mountains and nature have long been places of peace and refuge. There are few emotions about places for which adequate single words exist. At the beginning of the eighteenth century, the word sublime arose to describe the feelings that the natural world can evoke in us. At home, on my kitchen table, I have been trying to capture something of that sublime in bits of plastic. Using geographical data from the Internet, I used my 3D printer to make the memories of those mountains tangible. With a small fog machine, I create atmospheres and clouds. Sunlight through a window illuminates some, while others were lit with a variety of sources including ber optic lights used for microscopy. For me, these images evoke the place I call home; and remind me that it is our memories that make a place special. At Home in the West was created as a companion to Yosemite: Seeking Sublime, which premiered at photo-eye Gallery in November 2020. In December of that year, work from that series was invited to the Art of Staying at Home; Artists in the Time of Corona exhibition at the Bibliotheca Alexandrina in Egypt, where I was the only U.S. artist from eight countries included. Additional works from that series will soon be exhibited at the Krakow Triennial in Poland and at the Earth Photo...

For those of us who live in the West, mountains are more than just landmarks; they dene a sense of home. We have memories associated with our mountains; those we grew up surrounded b...

For those of us who live in the West, mountains are more than just landmarks; they dene a sense of home. We have memories associated with our mountains; those we grew up surrounded b...

For those of us who live in the West, mountains are more than just landmarks; they dene a sense of home. We have memories associated with our mountains; those we grew up surrounded b...

For those of us who live in the West, mountains are more than just landmarks; they dene a sense of home. We have memories associated with our mountains; those we grew up surrounded b...

For those of us who live in the West, mountains are more than just landmarks; they dene a sense of home. We have memories associated with our mountains; those we grew up surrounded b...

The implied act of opening the boxes, releases the energy of the occupants, allowing them to take flight. The people and objects confined within, through the simple act of unfolding,...

The implied act of opening the boxes, releases the energy of the occupants, allowing them to take flight. The people and objects confined within, through the simple act of unfolding,...

The implied act of opening the boxes, releases the energy of the occupants, allowing them to take flight. The people and objects confined within, through the simple act of unfolding,...

The implied act of opening the boxes, releases the energy of the occupants, allowing them to take flight. The people and objects confined within, through the simple act of unfolding,...

The implied act of opening the boxes, releases the energy of the occupants, allowing them to take flight. The people and objects confined within, through the simple act of unfolding,...

The implied act of opening the boxes, releases the energy of the occupants, allowing them to take flight. The people and objects confined within, through the simple act of unfolding,...