Honoring the Eastern Plains: The Start of a New Collection
When people think of Colorado, their minds usually go straight to the towering peaks of the Rockies, the dense forests of pine and aspen, or the crystal-clear alpine lakes. The mountains get all the love. But what about the eastern plains?
The wide-open grasslands don’t have the drama of jagged peaks or deep canyons. They don’t demand attention. Instead, they invite you to slow down, to look closer. And when you do, you realize they are anything but empty. This land is alive—with movement, history, and a quiet resilience that deserves to be seen.
A Landscape Often Overlooked
I have always been captivated by the wild romance of forests and mountains, and growing up in the heart of the Rockies, those towering peaks were my constant companions. But it wasn’t until I was a young adult that I encountered the eastern plains, and what I found there has since drawn me in. The golden fields stretching to the horizon, the sudden burst of color from prairie wildflowers, and the creatures thriving in this vast, open space—they all tugged at something deep within me. The eastern plains are just as much a part of Colorado as the Rockies, yet they often don’t receive the same appreciation.
This collection is my way of changing that. It’s my way of giving the plains the attention they deserve—showing that, though they may be quieter, they’re no less vital. These expansive lands are filled with life, history, and stories, and I hope this work inspires others to see them with the same awe and reverence that I now hold for them.
Black-tailed jackrabbits are large, fast hares with long ears and powerful hind legs, often seen bounding across the open grasslands and deserts of North America. Known for their distinctive black-tipped tails and ability to reach speeds of up to 40 miles per hour, they are well-adapted to evade predators in their dry, open habitats.
The First of Many
I’m starting this body of work with a few differant animals that embody the spirit of the plains: the meadowlark, the bald eagle, and the American bison. The meadowlark, with its bright yellow chest and unmistakable song, is the soundtrack of the prairie, a small but mighty presence that brings life to the open expanse. The bald eagle, though more often associated with rivers and forests, is a frequent sight here, perched high or soaring over the open landscape, a reminder of the wildness that still exists in unexpected places. And then there’s the bison—once nearly lost to history, now making a slow but powerful return to its rightful home on the plains. A living testament to resilience, the bison carries with it the weight of the past and the hope for a wilder future.
Why It Matters
The plains may not have the towering mountains or dramatic coastlines that grab immediate attention, but they’re just as crucial to the world we know. They’re home to unique ecosystems that support countless species, many of which have adapted to survive in harsh conditions. Historically, the plains have been a space of human resilience and migration—places where people have fought, thrived, and built communities for centuries. In addition to their ecological and historical significance, the plains carry a certain quiet beauty that speaks to the spirit, offering a sense of peace and connection to something much bigger than ourselves.
When I create this collection, it’s not just about capturing a landscape; it’s about conveying the stories etched in the earth and air of this place. The subtle beauty of the plains—its wildflowers, its birds, its shifting light—deserves a voice. Through my art, I hope others might look at the open sky and rolling grasslands with the same sense of reverence and wonder that I feel, understanding how essential this land is, not just to the environment, but to the fabric of who we are. It's about honoring the quiet power of this space and ensuring that its story isn’t lost to time.
Meadowlarks are brightly colored songbirds known for their cheerful, melodious whistles, often heard in grasslands and open fields. These birds are skilled at foraging on the ground for seeds and insects, and their striking yellow breast and black markings make them easy to spot.
If this speaks to you, I’d love to hear your own stories of the eastern plains. Have you spent time there? Do you have a favorite memory, a moment where the quiet beauty of the land struck you? Drop a comment or message me—I’d love to connect.