In the 1970s, shortly before I was born, an idea was floated that our own Milky Way galaxy might have, at its center, a black hole. Other galaxies that looked like ours did—notice that spiral shape not unlike water spinning down a drain?—and now scientists use the language with simple ease: “the super massive black hole at the center of our galaxy.” Other clusters of smaller black holes have also been located recently (in the past few years, that is) near the hotbed of our galaxy’s center. As an artist whose love for natural patterns fuels much of what she draws and paints, I see these wild and relatively recent discoveries as testaments to the many mysteries at the edge of human understanding. The more we know, the more we find out what we don’t know. I completed most of this body of work before the pandemic hit, before both the virus and anti-racism protests uncovered injustice in new and broader ways. As I look at these images in light of the time we are living, I can see them as a call toward humility and admission of our collective unknowns and blind spots. I also see hope shining like the light that surrounds the event horizon of a black hole—in arcs and plumes and disks of vibrant energy. As one thing dies, another is born.
View Artist's Talk at Foster White Gallery, hosting G.Gibson Projects for Seattle Deconstructed Art Fair, 2020.
Waiting for a Supernova
Low Gravity
Halo
Sky Measurements 2