In this group of paintings, I place the viewer in a mysterious and foggy thicket and in the underbelly of the forest. Squinting through spindly sticks and feathery filaments one is beckoned into a treacherous yet thrilling journey into spaces not made for the human body.  Building these worlds in paint is about gradually teasing something out of that murkiness.  The sticks, spiderwebs and fleeting fibers coil, protrude and dangle as if to taunt.  My work dwells in this magical world, but it is also rooted in my outward looking stance on Eco-justice. Choosing to paint from the landscape in the 21st century cannot be separated from the reality that our landscape is in peril. Witnessing climate change in the East Bay hills compels me to go beyond creating magical forests, but to lift up the urgency of preserving our real forests. My work is about enveloping one in a miniature hinterland; a brush pile so special it could prompt a life-long fantasy, so complex it could nourish a thousand creatures, and so fragile it could ignite a city on a windy night.