Tessa Gibbons

I spent my childhood climbing rocks, wandering in the woods, and generally hoping I would be transported to Narnia. I no longer hope to be whisked off to a magical land, but I did gain an appreciation for the materials and structures in the natural environment, both from afar and up close. As an artist, I feel compelled to study these structures, asking myself, "What makes water look like water? A rock? Undergrowth? A tree?" Unlike a lot of traditional ink painting, I do not use washes. I prime the brush (I use only one brush 99.99% of the time) with water, dry it off, then dip it in the inkwell. The brush itself, how much ink is left in the bristles, and how dry it is, dictates what part of the piece I work on and which texture I can convey. I feel this process, the self-imposed limitations, and the instant permanence of the ink, force me to study the structures of light and dark, both on the micro and macro scale, and keep me in the moment and in the flow.