Listening to the Work: The Making of Rewilding: She Who Dances the Spiral of Becoming

Ideation: A Journey Through Art and Nature

Many of my paintings begin on the computer. I digitally compose my ideas, often using my own photos as source images. I recombine these images into collaged compositions. For this particular piece, I had a specific vision but lacked the necessary photos. So, I turned to the internet to find the components. In total, I used about 30 different images to create this artwork.

Where I Ended is Not Where I Began

My work has never been overtly political. I prefer to protest by showcasing what I wish to see in the world, rather than amplifying the fear and division that surrounds us. The idea for this painting emerged from a moment of overwhelm, a struggle with the desire to do more. Originally, I envisioned a celebratory downfall of corrupt systems, where people unite to build something new from their shared strength.

The First Symbols

I began with the fig tree, a symbol of wealth, royalty, and opulence. While it carries many positive associations, I chose it for its representation of power. In my painting, the tree is struck down by lightning, ignited by the spark of a single person's actions. This symbolizes that each of us possesses more power and impact than we realize. Surrounding the tree, masses dance, illuminated by the radiant glow of a dawning sun breaking through the haze. This scene was meant to embody both protest and hope.

A digital collage with a fig tree being struck by lightning and people joyfully dancing in the sun.

Starting the Canvas

Next, I transitioned to the canvas. This process was highly experimental, deviating from my usual techniques. I aimed to create a base filled with radiant texture, allowing the glowing sun to shine through from behind the scene. I used mulberry paper embedded into the wet paint, applying it thickly with a palette knife.

A yellow and orange canvas covered in pure color and texture.

Working in 3D

I wanted to explore the integration of 3D elements into my 2D paintings. After loosely outlining the general placement with charcoal, I began weaving wire through the canvas to create a structure for the tree. I mixed drywall compound, corn starch, glue, and paper mulch to build form over the wires. My intention was to capture the entangled roots of the fig tree, which choke themselves around the stone beneath it. I also incorporated bare wire to form branches.

Intricate 3D wire forms create a stunning textured canvas with vibrant orange and yellow hues, culminating in a striking sculptural element that adds depth and dynamism.

Starting to Paint

My first task was to cover the white of the 3D form and tone down the intensity of the color. A dark grey helped achieve both goals. I quickly realized that a brush would struggle to reach all the crevices and looping forms visible from different angles. To address this, I used spray paint in golds and brasses to cover areas a brush could not reach. This unified much of my earlier color, providing a solid base to build upon. Back in my studio, I laid down another dark grey base to add depth and shadow. At this stage, I still planned to paint everything except the dancing crowd, which I intended to add later as metal cutouts that would project forward in space in front of the tree.

A side by side comparison of a textured tree painting at two different stages.

Re-evaluation

And then it sat. For months, I hesitated to work on it. At some point, the piece quietly resisted me. It was emerging from a place of fear, feeding into imagery of destruction. That has never been the energy or art I wish to project into the world. So, I sat with my feelings and contemplated what I wanted this painting to become instead. What did I want to grow instead of fear? The longer I sat with the piece, the clearer it became that I was not interested in amplifying fear, even in the name of justice. I began to recognize how fear, division, and nervous system shutdown often result from constant bombardment. I did not want this painting to participate in that cycle.

What shifted was not my desire for change, but my understanding of where change begins. The tree I had imagined being struck down no longer wanted to fall. It desired to endure, to remember, and to be inhabited. The external imagery of collapse and spectacle gave way to something quieter and more radical: the choice to remain present, to hold the light I longed to see in the world within my body and within the work itself. From this re-evaluation, the figure began to emerge as an embodiment of that choice. Presence as protest. Remembrance as resistance. Not a turning away from the world, but a refusal to let fear dictate the terms of becoming.

A New Start

With this new direction and intention, I returned to the painting with pure color. I held the feelings I wanted to cultivate in my heart and mind as I surrendered to kinetic expression. What this painting was built on was not erased but redirected. I let the paint fall like a spell being cast. A spell of integration. A spell of truth. A spell of beauty and light. A spell of communion and wholeness. A spell of harmony.

An artist adds colorful touches to a textured painting of a vibrant, gnarled tree, set against a colorful background in a cozy studio filled with books and decor.

New Symbols Take Form

The deer emerged as a symbol of regeneration, connection to nature, and guidance. Spirals represent growth, balance, and spirit. The encircled cross signifies the unity of spirit and matter. The figure transformed from a point of destructive ignition into a part of the landscape, an embodied extension of flourishing life.

In an artful blend of texture and color, this painting depicts a mystical tree with swirling branches against a backdrop of abstract, ethereal patterns, capturing a sense of depth and wonder.

The New Painting Takes Shape

I allowed the space around the figure to transform into a verdant forest, with stabilizing rocks holding and lifting the tree, and a color-filled stream purifying the soil. The symbols danced, sometimes disappearing and sometimes being brought forward as I worked. They remained present, but often obscured, just visible enough to avoid vanishing entirely. Once the forest grew, I focused on light. I wanted the scene to feel alive with dancing, sparkling radiance. I achieved this with days of small dots in shifting colors.

An artist deeply focused in her studio, surrounded by shelves filled with books, brings a vibrant forest scene to life on canvas, capturing the intricate play of light and shadow among the trees.

A Composition Adjustment

The composition felt off, and the 3D elements didn’t seem completely grounded in the space. So, I added another 3D tree. This one was fallen, returning to Earth, part of the cycle of life, and a recognition that beginnings are nourished by endings.

A textured painting of a twisted tree growing on a rugged surface, with light filtering through dense foliage, creating an intricate play of shadows and highlights. The artwork is set on a wooden floor, surrounded by vintage furniture, and appears to be a work in progress.

The Final Result

What ultimately emerged was not an image of collapse, but one of return. The figure became inseparable from the landscape itself, woven into roots, stone, water, and light, moving in rhythm with the living world rather than acting upon it. This painting became a meditation on rewilding as an inner act: a remembering of the self beneath expectation, fear, and forgetting. It speaks to the quiet power of embodied truth, to the freedom found in presence, and to the wisdom that arises when we stop trying to force change and instead allow ourselves to fully inhabit who we are. In that inhabitation, something ancient stirs, something whole, and something deeply alive.

A vibrant portrayal of a mystical forest scene, where a gnarled, textured tree stands under a sunlit canopy, its branches extending as if to embrace the hidden wonders below.