Dena Ann Adams
If your plans to live anywhere else are going to be sabotaged by the Midwestern skies, it’s going to happen on one of those perfect October days with the most expansive sky possible, and it’s going to happen somewhere flat, like Lakeville MN could appear in the mid 1990’s on the stretch from school to the airport. My life until that point took place in New York City, and my self-image was one of a lifelong New Yorker on an educational track for exactly four years.
Falling in love, however, is never really about logic or logistics, and it isn’t even about finding someone you want to spend every possible moment beside. The last thing you’d pair me up with is landscape, on the surface. I’m not an “outdoors” person, but I paint the outdoors. However, in spite of this, the landscape, whether it’s literal and observed or abstracted to the botanical gesture or the color field, seems to never quite leave me entirely alone, and always re-enters my scene.
It’s been over 25 years, and here we are. The horizon slung low, the air almost too much without gloves. I’ll sketch or photograph it, but it’s only in the departures from the plan that the magic will show.