Elizabeth Weber

There is something about the quiet wonder of nature. The hidden cocoons, eggs, nests, burrows… that hidden growth and transformation, the fragile strength of this constant cycle of birth and decay. How something can build a protective shell around itself as it enters its most fragile and vulnerable state and emerge absolutely transformed. How a snake, in its shedding, embraces blindness to further grow. 

I understand that. I feel that deep within my bones. That need to fully embrace the not knowing, the vulnerability, the deepest knowledge that in order to grow into what is coming next, I must give up what I was. Transform. 

Throughout the year. I walk the grounds of my home collecting bits of natural objects that have been transformed in their own ways by the natural world. The collection of these objects become both a source of inspiration and the actual materials from which the sculptures take form. This process allows an inner conversation to take an outward form. A way to transform decay into life, the remnants of previous forms to become the skeletal form of new ones.  

In my painting, the process of transformation occurs from the moment life’s touch moves me and sparks inspiration. From grief comes ecstasy; sorrow becomes joy; a black canvas becomes split and filled with light and vibrant color.  

A transformation, from what was, into what it is, in this moment.