| || |
Meet Cate Moses. She is living the life she loves, painting. Here's what she says about her work:
"I work from a strong sense of place, painting the wildlife with whom I share a home in the high alpine Southwest. I spend a good deal of time tracking, observing, and photographing wildlife, and doing wildlife advocacy work.
The painter’s task is to venture into psyche/wilderness and bring something back.
When one moves paint around on canvas, the forms that are the conceptual matrices and patterns underlying conscious experience emerge. The painter steps aside and lets that process happen, allowing the painting to breathe and reveal its internal structures and symbols."
I grew up at the arboretum. It is wonderful to see that it remains much as it was when Fred Lape and Van Loveland lived there and made real their vision of an international seed exchange. Under their care, the arboretum came into being and flourished as a testament to what can result when humans interact with nature as a living breathing palette.
I love that the arboretum plays host to musical events. I hope someday to see a visiting resident artist program. When I was a kid, the second story in the barn served as a studio for visiting artists, mostly, I think, from NYC. There was a big studio room and a small bedroom with an ancient built-in bed partially suspended by ropes. The walls in the studio were covered with paintings of all sorts, brushes and palettes were strewn about, collecting dust. I do not recall there ever being any artists present. Perhaps that practice ended before my time. When I come back and visit, the barn is always locked. I’m curious—does that space still exist as it was? Somehow I doubt it, but I I want to see it anyway.
My parents went to Fred & Van’s for dinner every Saturday. Fred and Van came to our house for dinner every Wednesday. We often picnicked there on weekends, with my older siblings and their kids, and picked wild strawberries. I never tired of observing pond life. Sometimes Fred and Van joined us on vacations. My mom, Katie Moser, helped Van in the rose gardens (I changed my surname back to the ancestral Moses in 1997). My mom used to go up to the studio bed and lie down while Fred and my dad (Dr. Wilhelm Moser) played chamber music after dinner. It may have been the only rest and relaxation she ever allowed herself. She saved it all for that perfect place to recharge. My brother Dave and I had the run of the place. And run we did. Fred and Van loomed large in my childhood. Fred’s being a poet and an English professor inspired me eventually to become the same. I currently teach at the Santa Fe University of Art and Design. I still read Fred’s poetry.
Next: The De Kays, and deer