Puhpowee—a word from the Anishinaabe people, meaning “the force that causes mushrooms to push up from the earth overnight”—is the conceptual heart of my newest body of work. Since the start of 2025, this project has completely consumed my practice, growing organically in both form and spirit during a profoundly challenging year. What began as two large abstract canvases has evolved into a networked, multi-part installation: dozens of smaller works unified by a shared visual language and conceptual root system.
The installation reflects the mycelial networks that inspire it—deeply connected, quietly powerful, and structurally resilient. Black lines weave across each surface, functioning as symbolic roots. They ground each individual piece while linking the entire grouping into a singular, living organism. Though each painting or panel can stand alone, the work reaches its fullest expression when shown salon-style, as a swarm that stretches across a wall or around a gallery corner. The modularity of the installation allows for adaptability in scale and space, but its ideal setting is one where the work can breathe, sprawl, and envelop viewers.
I’ve come to understand this past year as a period of transition. The loudness of the world around me became overwhelming and pushed me outside—an unfamiliar space, as I had long preferred the perfectly controlled comforts of the indoors. But peace eluded me there. Stubborn habits dissolved, and I stepped into nature. I began to lie still in my hammock and listen. No tasks, no busywork—my soul was broken, and I was forced to be still.
There, in my hammock, I saw my first woodpecker and watched her work. I heard mating owls call to one another and meet on a branch—far, but close enough to see their shadows. Birds sang all around me. I listened and smiled, imagining the unity they must feel in all that green. I had never noticed so many shades of green. I’m a painter—how had I missed them? Breezes brushed over my skin, and what once annoyed me no longer did. In that breeze, I saw my body respond—the fine hairs on my arms standing upright. I breathed it all in, and I found my connection.
