FOR THOSE WHO BEAR WITNESS

­Here we all are, together­

There are many ways I can think of that love looks like. Sometimes it looks like a garden tomato, or a shared meal, sometimes it looks like a postcard in the mail. Sometimes it looks like the tracks that snails left for us overnight on sidewalks, or sacred datura opening for the moon. Sometimes it looks the way a trail in the forest does: a collection of anonymous shared footprints that go somewhere that many somebodies thought was special. Sometimes it looks the way the sky does, once it finishes raining. Sometimes it looks like stopping to look around and say ‘wow’. Sometimes, it looks like this.

To me, love always looks like remembering about our communities, communities that are so much broader than just our human neighbors. In our beloved valley, here, the community is the boulders and the scrub oaks, the cliffs, the meadow on the mountaintop, the vast remainder of the inland ocean that we call the Great Salt Lake. The seagulls, the snakes. The owls, the mountain lions. Love looks like remembering that we are a tiny part of a big, unknowable something. Love looks like continuing to care, continuing to bear witness, even when it is hard.

At this moment we are watching as an era unfolds. Wildfires, inversion, dust storms – all of these things obscure the air, hiding landscapes (our context, our home) within them. We are unable to see into the distance, to think about time and space and infinite chances. The world as we know it is condensed to a bubble of our immediate surroundings. As we acknowledge our changing landscapes, we must also acknowledge our grief. These paintings are asking what it feels like to hold grief and hope simultaneously, alongside one another. These paintings ask if perhaps they are the same thing, two sides of the same coin. Can we continue to walk during the slow motion unfolding (despite, in spite) and continue to bear witness, with all of our grief and all of our hope? Can we remember that we are small among the ancient others who bear witness alongside us?

prices listed for originals, all paintings (except those with embroidery thread) available as high quality canvas giclee reproductions - contact via carozobservations@gmail.com for inquiries


 

Superior rising

24x36 / 2023 / acrylic & gouache on canvas / $750


Slow Motion grief, slow motion praise

36x60 / acrylic and gouache on canvas / 2023 / $2,500

18x30 canvas giclee reproduction / $300


After the burn, another evening

36x60 / acrylic and gouache on canvas / 2023 / $2,200


Rattlesnake gulch smoke portal

30x40 / acrylic and gouache on canvas / 2023 / $1,800


Smoke Portal - Monument Valley

(1) 18x36 + (1) 12x36 (diptych) / 2022 / acrylic on gallery wrapped canvas / $800


sunset peak doorway

36x48” // acrylic and gouache on canvas / $2,000


Smoke Portal - Red Castle

36x48” / 2022 / acrylic, cotton thread, gouache on gallery wrapped canvas / $2,500


we were there to witness

24x30 / acrylic, gouache, cotton thread on canvas / 2023 / $950


sundial smoke portal (study)

16x20 / acrylic and gouache on canvas / 2023 / $200