Katherine Irish Henry
Statement 2007
Skywatcher. A respected friend referred to herself as a fellow Skywatcher. This word fell into place as self-defining. I am a Skywatcher. I have been a Skywatcher as long as I can remember. Big skies over the desert, approaching weather defined by the size and shapes of clouds. My father used to talk about the meaning of clouds. Clouds have threatened, whirled with power, beautifully choreographed by the growing pressure between hot and cold air. Sunsets have signaled that it was time to bicycle home – my nose and skin full of the scent of rich earth, corn and the warmth of the sun. Skies touch the edges of water, trees, desert, mountains, islands. They hold all colors at one time or another. I dream about vast spaces, one home dwarfed, the land made rough by air, fire, and water and the pressures and rotation of the earth.
Sometimes others suggest that I might paint subjects more political, more pertinent and meaningful to our present times. But how do you change the very nature of your soul? I left New York City knowing that I did not want to paint its pain and anger. I made a conscious decision to contribute beauty to the world. I am in league with the Naturalist and Luminist painters who point to the beauty around us.
What do you find beautiful? What fills your soul with joy and peace? Perhaps the lavender smell of wisteria, a cool breeze playfully stroking your cheek, a cloud as fine as angel hair, colored with shades of mauve, salmon, a strike of blue, the innocence of your children and grandchildren.
Skies are a window to a presence, much larger than we are. At night, stars and planets remind us that there are many mysteries and of our scale in the larger scheme of existence. Skies teach us of our ever changing experience in life, a moment never to be repeated, never the same. No need to hold on to that moment. To try to do so is fruitless. How can you freeze feathering bits of clouds and keep them from gliding across the sky in ever changing forms. What intensely bittersweet moment would be missed if a sunset did not complete its course? It is much better to experience, to be mindful and appreciate what is happening now and then let go.
I wonder. If more people felt it was truly imperative for themselves and their families to know the trill of a finch, the salmon of the Indian Paintbrush endangered in Utah, the clear cerulean blue of an unpolluted sky, would we make a concentrated effort to care for all that is alive. Would violence become less pervasive?
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