It’s four in the morning and I have just been awoken by a dream.
I am overwhelmed by the emotions felt within my dream world, a taste left on my tongue, but I am lacking the clarity needed to decipher the code.  Images shuffle through my mind’s eye faster than I can make sense of them.  I capture bits and pieces but only those that will themselves towards me.  While this one eye is open the rest of me is filled with the fog and clouds of rest.  Sense at this point is unattainable. Any thread or narrative is left to be discovered, and so is left for tomorrow. Wishing myself back to sleep I am forced to acknowledge that I may, and most likely may not, discover the meaning of these messages but find comfort in knowing that this world is mine, and hope that it will find me again.

When I view Betsy’s work I feel grasped by this moment and more specifically, the moment when the few bits of clarity, the bread crumbs, begin to slip away, blend together and become more of a feeling than a visual.  Betsy, while describing her personal emotive experiences in this work, seems to be describing mine as well.  Ours.  While I’m reminded of the limbo world of the dreaming experience, what she gives us is also more than that.  We are not just asked to view and participate in this work, we are confronted by the deep well of an open heart.  And, like the dreams, I am unable to tell if I am the tree or the one swing from its branches.

-Visual Arts Editor, Elizabeth McDonald

How You Wear Your Scars

But I Thought I’d Let You Go

Fort Lewis

I Figured As Much

Nest 3

Nest 4

If I May

Its Almost There

Kirkland

Never Sleeps

Notice of Inspection

Owl Service

Soundings in Fathoms

Where Did it All Go

You Were Just Having A Laugh