In Maine, we go “barking.” By that I mean collecting birch bark for kindling. Birch bark is a miraculous material that contains so much oil, it will burn even if soaking wet! One day, in the basement where we’d stored piles of the bark, I started looking at it more closely and arranging small pieces of it together. Then I began playing around with larger pieces, which led to my perusing the woods with a utility knife looking for downed trees to peel. Before long, friends and neighbors were giving me special pieces of bark, and alerting me to treasure troves of the stuff they stumbled upon.
In birch bark, I see landscapes, people, creatures, stories. Sometimes the bark is enough. Other times, I mix it up with other natural materials, such as feathers, fleece, fur, mica, as well as bits and pieces of metal. Of all the many materials I use, almost all is re-purposed, including the frames.
Some of the bark in these pieces is very, very old, having hung onto long-dead trees for years, before storms brought them down. They tell me their stories, and I, by arranging and embellishing and framing them, tell them mine.