I came into this world an introverted spirit, spellbound by nature and its benevolence. There was a fortress— a garden— that circled the house I grew up in. Shrubbery and trees exceeded the average human height and thus, I could play in secret. Crouched under branches with red berries, I made up intricate stories— but not without pause to smell the daffodils. It was in that garden that I picked rosemary for the first time and tasted the bitterness of mustard greens. There, that I broke three robin’s eggs and felt the guilt of involuntary murder. There, that I discovered creation: the act or process of bringing something into existence.

In the garden I was somewhat of a groundskeeper, collecting the fallen; mulberries, pecans and sometimes baby birds. At night I listened, and always ended up by the pond. Staring into a little ecosystem and hearing its music, was for me, a social gathering. Welcomed just as I was, I found a sense of home and belonging.

My work gives a glimpse into a more accepting world, for women, as it re-evaluates the concept of “home”. Home is mind and body, as well as our personal, physiological relationship with nature. It exists when we are comfortable, grounded and calm. My work is made intuitively, without a fully planned composition. Through the manipulation of delicate materials (colored pencil, ink and watercolor), a dream-like, tranquility surfaces on the paper. In my drawings and monotypes, a utopian, matriarchal world unfolds. Squishy figures enjoy themselves, dwelling in their natural surroundings; they are content, with little interest in concealing joy or pleasure. My body of work is a labyrinth of whimsy and delight, exploring and redefining modern perceptions of joy, acceptance, and home.

CV – Lydia Baker