Denise Hawkins 4/12/24 Denise Hawkins 4/12/24

Grateful Journey

*Me doing one of my favorite things in the world - playing around with my camera in the desert. Arches National Park*

March was a very busy month for my photography, in yet more ways I didn’t expect. Along with my solo show at Blue Door Arts, three of my works are part of the CFD Old West Museum’s annual (43rd) Western Spirit Art Show and Sale.

I love to attend the artist workshop as well as the show opening for the Western Spirit show. This is my second year. The artist workshop is an awesome way to meet other artists in the show, as well as hear from experienced artists and gallery owners regarding everything from marketing to framing. The networking opportunities continued at the show opening, where both last year and this year, I met and connected with some great people. Last year, I met an artist who has now become a close, important friend. She and I learned that we both had strokes on the same day (how weird is that?!), though hers was a couple of years after mine. Our similarities in character and personality drew us together like magnets. I treasure her friendship. This year, I met even more artists and hung out with others I’ve met previously. This is not a world where I feel out of place or apprehensive about participating. We are all lovers of art, creating in different ways, but joined together by a common bond of expressing ourselves through color, process, and imagination. As if all that artsy camaraderie weren’t enough, I was shocked to hear my name announced with the group of winners for the show at the opening! My photograph, “Miner’s Boots,” was named “Best Photograph” at the show. It was a real honor.

*Mark in the slot canyon we visited near Kanab, Utah. Ancient Anasazi steps can be seen notched into the rock above and to the right of Mark.*

I got my annual winter itch in March to get out of town for a while and head south to red rock country: Utah. I dearly love the desert, and my yearning to be in it grows stronger with time. Being in the midst of the red rocks fuels my soul and makes me feel whole and ready to face the rest of the winter when I return home. Poor Mark, he puts up with my wanderlust for the desert and tolerates me as I gather books and read more about this beautiful land. But hey! I got to visit a slot canyon for the first time and it was every bit as incredible as I imagined it would be. And we had a terrific guide who let us meander and didn’t hurry us. What a magical experience.

I’m ever so grateful to Mark for following along on my search for something in the desert I haven’t found yet, but for which I enjoy the hunt.

“Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of the human spirit, and as vital to our lives as water and good bread.”
-Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire

As March passed and now April has begun, I’m starting to shift focus to the summer festival season. As of today, I’ve been accepted or invited to participate in five shows, with several others I’m waiting for notification about. Beginning on Memorial Day Weekend, I’ll be in Brigham City, Utah for the Art on Main Festival. In mid-July, I’ll have a display at the Wyoming International Film Festival. Late July will be a busy one with two consecutive weekends at the Pearl Street Arts Festival in Boulder, CO, and the Art Fair Jackson Hole in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Labor Day weekend will take us to Dillon, CO for the art festival there.

I’m also enjoying dabbling in some painting again. I haven’t painted oils since college, which was a minute ago! I purchased some water-based oils that I’m hoping to have time for very soon. But a super fun painting medium I’m currently learning is watercolor. I don’t recall ever learning watercolor in my college art classes, so my foray into them now is new and rewarding. I don’t know where the urge to paint again will lead me, but I am happy with whatever outcome that might be.

And so I write this today with gratefulness for my journey. I am working hard at this new “career” I find myself in, but not in a stressful, burning-the-candle-at-both-ends kind of way. It’s a steady pace. Looking for and responding to opportunities, being mindful about time for art every day if possible, and immersing myself daily in a positive, productive lifestyle, thought and learning, and social interaction are markers of my overall sense of place and purpose. None of this would be possible without faith and prayer, either. Mentioned last here, but first and foremost in my mind every day I wake. I am grateful for opportunities and failures, new experiences and familiar ones, the love and friendship present in my life, and the grounded roots my faith provides me to weather the cloudy days.

*Mark gazing out on the beautiful Needles District in Canyonlands National Park, Utah.*

Denise Hawkins 2/24/24 Denise Hawkins 2/24/24

Art in the Heart

I had a lot of professional excitement this month in photography. It seems a little strange to put the label, ‘career,’ on the lifelong passion that I hold so dear. But a career it has become.

A career in photography has a lot of different variations. There are portrait photographers, wedding and event photographers, fashion photographers, travel photographers, commercial photographers, photojournalists, freelancers…the list goes on and on. There are also photographers like myself who, if asked to categorize the type of work they do, would call themselves a fine art photographer. What’s the difference, one might ask? The difference lies in where the heart is, and in what drives the brain. Every photographer who focuses on a specific discipline puts their whole heart into it. There’s no doubt that photographers of all kinds can perform multiple types of photography - I can and I do (although I have turned down wedding requests- I know myself enough to know I couldn’t handle the anxiety of photographing such a high-stakes event). I certainly enjoy doing portrait sessions and love the opportunity to photograph small events or respond to friends’ requests for special projects. But my heart is in the art.

The more I focus my energy on the learning and absorption of all things art, the more attentive I am to improving my skills and growing my knowledge. The more I focus, the less I let the shadows of doubt gathered at the corners of my mental viewfinder cloud my thinking. “Am I good enough?” “What if this is it, and I don’t produce another good image?” “What if people don’t like what I’m doing?” All those irrational and maddening doubts happen to many artists. It’s important that artists believe in themselves, no matter the rejections experienced, and no matter the negative thoughts we allow to surface. If I don’t believe in myself, how can I ask others to believe in me and the art I’m creating?

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned so far is to trust what I feel about an image, and not what I think might be popular or what might sell. One such image was taken a few years ago and added to my catalog, but I didn’t want to show it for a long time because I worried it might not be well received. “Too abstract,” I thought. “Too atypical.” Last year, despite my self-doubt, I chose it to be my juried piece at the St. George Art Festival, my very first juried festival. The piece won First Place in Photography! That was an amazing validation of my instinct! This piece has been juried into a couple of other exhibits, and I’ve been thrilled to see and hear people’s reactions to it. Just last week, this same piece was awarded the Governor’s Choice Award along with a Capitol Art Collection Purchase Award. The Governor and First Lady chose my piece, among all the amazing artwork in the exhibit. I was so surprised and humbled. Additionally, Sunset Calm (aka Jackson Reservoir Sunset) will now be part of the permanent art collection belonging to the Wyoming State Museum.

So it seems I have added a couple of notches to my endeavors in art photography. These accolades are very meaningful to me. I reflect often on what I’m doing and ask, through prayer, if I’m where I need to be. So far, the answer comes back ‘Yes. Keep at it.’ The reward is not monetary, and that’s ok. The reward of knowing that an image I created using my camera as the tool meant something to someone -touched their emotions, made them feel something positive, cannot be replicated in many other ways. I use the art in my heart to reach someone else’s heart. That’s powerful!

My other excitement this month has been my solo show hosted by Blue Door Arts in Cheyenne. I was thrilled to be asked to be the guest artist there for February and March. The opening night during Friday Art Walk was wonderful, and I was able to visit with old friends, new friends, and art lovers alike. My show continues this month, with another Friday Art Walk coming up on March 1, from 5-8 pm. If you were unable to come in February, I hope you can come on March 1.

Additionally, if you’re out and about for Friday Art Walk on March 1, you can see even more of my work at Clay Paper Scissors Gallery, where “In The Garden” will be opening. Stop by and see all the wonderful pieces to get you excited for Spring. Boss Lady and Don’t Leave Me Beehind from my bee series are part of the exhibit.

Denise Hawkins 1/6/24 Denise Hawkins 1/6/24

Time to Move Forward

It’s a good day to write and reflect. This year started a little strange for us. My father-in-law, Mark’s stepfather, passed away after a short-lived battle with liver cancer on Christmas Eve. We were all expecting to spend Christmas Day together, and he was looking forward to seeing our son, who flew home for Christmas, and our daughter, whom he had just seen a month earlier at Thanksgiving. Our family sort of floated through the holiday season in a weird state with all that happened, and we’re all still processing it.

Just a week before Christmas, I broke my foot; not even a story-worthy cause! Nonetheless, I am in an AirCast boot and pretty limited on how much I can walk until the end of January. Between the recent injury and Larry’s illness for several months prior, I haven’t been out shooting for a while. And the less time I am behind the lens, the more I feel disconnected from my art. I haven’t done any sketching, journaling, or much of anything art-minded lately.

*Steamboat Snow Fence, Big Horn Mountains, November 2023*

I recently sat down at the computer and went through the hundreds of photos I took in 2023. I came up with about 50 that I liked out of all those. Of that 50, I’ll probably only add a portion to my permanent catalog. I look at this collection of chosen and see some growth; using new techniques and the new gear I’ve been able to purchase after the Great Water Disaster (a story for another day). I see some recurring themes; abandoned houses with stormy skies, and gnarly old trees in wildflower fields. They’re familiar-themed but different from what I’ve taken before. I also see a new area that I want to explore more this year. Black and whites - old school film as well as digital black and white. We’re so immersed in a real and digital world of color, that I have forgotten how beautiful the simplicity of black and white photos are.

Compositionally, shooting in black and white is different than color. Contrast and shadow are vital. Some of my nature subjects like flowers and pretty fall grasses look like a washed-out field of gray in black and white. I am interested in going back to my roots, back to the basics of black and white, and rediscovering the beauty of composition, shape, line, and contrast. Steamboat Snow Fence is an image I very much like. I will have it available online soon.

My father-in-law, Larry, was a brilliant man in his prime. He held a doctorate in wildlife biology, was an accomplished scientist, college professor, business entrepreneur, and, as anyone who knew him will tell you, wine connoisseur. He was generous with me in many ways, and I came to have a special bond with him over several years when I helped him produce his two books. We worked well together, and I take pride in my part in helping him create the two volumes of stories that are now his life’s anthology. He was also an amateur photographer and an art lover and encouraged me to pursue my passion. I gave him several prints over the years, but his favorite was “Winter Lean,” shown above. That photo holds a special place for me now, knowing how much he enjoyed it.

2024 has started a little rough, but I think good things are ahead. I will find my mojo again. I think about Larry’s legacy and that turns into thinking about what I want my art legacy to be. This last Christmas, I had three friends and clients who custom-ordered specific photos for their loved ones. All three gift recipients were very happy, “thrilled” as I was told, with their gifts. They were photos that meant something to the recipients, evoked an emotional response, and made them feel happy or reminded them of a special person in their lives. I can’t think of a better art legacy than that.

Goodbye 2023, and all the difficulties as well as good memories. Time to move forward!

Denise Hawkins 12/13/23 Denise Hawkins 12/13/23

Close to Home

Sometimes the most interesting art can be found in your own back yard. Literally.

As a new artist to the summer art festival circuit this past summer, I’ve learned a lot about all the work it takes to show one’s art at an event. Each show opened my eyes to new tidbits of information, industry tips from other artists, and the ins and outs of consumer behavior. One of the most interesting observations I made was that some of my most popular images are the ones I’ve captured close to home.

We live in a 1940 Tudor cottage in a historic neighborhood filled with mature trees and adjacent to a beautiful city park and a small lake. We love it here. I can often be seen sporting my camera around the house, in the yard, or out on walks with my husband and dog. It’s on these short jaunts that I frequently find interesting compositions.

One of the most popular series of images I started showing this year is the Bee series. The birdbath that sits just outside our front door in a perennial flower bed became a favorite watering hole to some honey bees. The bees visited every day, all summer long. We had never seen so many lined up on the edge of the birdbath. I love hearing people’s stories and memories about bees or beekeeping when they see my images.

Alley Squirrel was taken in the alley behind our house. The squirrel in the photo made a nest in a small box nailed to a utility pole. It was wary of my presence when I approached with my long lens but tolerated me long enough to capture a memorable expression.

One of my newest images, Sparrow Convention, will be exhibited for the first time at the 43rd Western Spirit Art Show and Sale at the CFD Old West Museum this coming March. I took this image right out my dining room window.

The city park and lake in our neighborhood is host to a plethora of urban wildlife. Sometimes though, the weather creates unique opportunities that go beyond the norm. One such day was very foggy and cold, with hoarfrost covering all the trees and shrubs. The strong contrast between white fog and branches and the dark, wet tree trunks allowed me to notice three old, wind-shaped cottonwood trees as if I’d seen them for the first time. Winter Lean won Best of Show in an art show in Brigham, Utah, and has been shown at other exhibits. I was so interested in the winter trees, I decided to create a four-season retrospective of them. The Four Seasons is now available as a limited edition giclée.

One of my most memorable backyard experiences occurred at a previous home, during a summer with large wildfires in the area. Our skies were thick with smoke for weeks. One evening, a flight of Blue-Tipped Danner dragonflies landed in our chokecherry trees. They hung out for several hours before sunset. We had never seen so many at once before, or since. Dragonflies are very symbolic to many people. I count myself extremely lucky to have experienced such an event.

As an artist, it’s easy for me to get caught up in dreams of travel, thinking of places I’d like to photograph or things I’d like to see. But more often than not, the most wonderful occurrences have happened right where I live, close to home.