It’s hard to believe my time at the farms is coming to an end. For the past two years, I’ve wandered the wide, beautiful land east of Denver—meeting alpacas, cows, and even a few curious donkeys. I’ve watched the rhythms of nature unfold, from the shimmer of summer fields to dark storm clouds sweeping in from the west. The view of the Rocky Mountains has been a constant companion, sometimes veiled in rain, sometimes framed by soft, billowing clouds. Through these seasons, I’ve learned what grows in Colorado and what colors the land gives back. Each plant, seed, and root tells its own story—of resilience, adaptation, and beauty. Now, back in my studio, I’m translating those experiences into art. While creating was always the goal, this journey has become much more. It’s been about reconnecting to the land, tracing threads of history—both personal and collective—and deepening my care for the world around me. The result of this work will come together in an exhibition titled Dust to Apples: Colors of the Eastern Plains, opening soon at the Adams County Government Center, with installations in both the Taza Coffee House and the lobby. The show will feature a series of encaustic and ink paintings, a large sculptural piece, and two display cases filled with materials, artifacts, and pigments that tell the story behind the work. I’m also honored to include the stunning photography of Jimena Peck, whose images capture the soul of the land and the people who care for it. This exhibition is both a culmination and a beginning—a reflection on how the land shapes us and how, in return, we leave our mark.
0 Comments
Many people ask me how to make ink. My response is always, “It’s actually pretty simple—all you need to do is extract the color.” Most often, this is done with water and heat. The real masters of color extraction are dyers, who have long worked with plants to coax out their hues. For ink, you can use nearly any part of a plant: flowers (like blanket flower), stems and leaves (such as amaranth), seeds (like walnuts) and even roots (like beets). One key difference between making ink and making dye is the amount of material needed. While dye requires a substantial quantity of plant matter to saturate fabric, ink needs only a small amount. This summer, I gave a demonstration on ink-making and shared how colors can be adjusted with modifiers. By shifting the pH, the ink itself transforms. Some of my favorite modifiers include citric acid, alum, washing soda, and iron phosphate. Unlike dye, my inks aren’t made to withstand countless washings or years of wear. Instead, they become part of my artwork. In my final show at Taza Coffee in the Adams County Government building, I will present Time Lapse, a series of 20 paintings. Time Lapse (Change) is a quiet meditation on what we’ve gained and what we’ve lost: the wisdom once passed down through generations, the deep knowledge of soil and seasons overshadowed by mechanization, and the disappearance of small family farms. As agriculture grows increasingly industrialized, the intimate connection people once held with the land slips further away. My work brings these shifts into focus, honoring both the beauty of what remains and the melancholy of what’s gone. My personal disconnection mirrors our collective one. Each of my techniques emerges from hands-on experimentation—failures and surprises alike. Through this process, I’ve come to embrace the impermanence of natural pigments and the fragile beauty they carry.
|
Melody EppersonA profoundly curious artist exploring what it means to be human through art and life. Archives
October 2025
Categories |
RSS Feed