Shelter

Shelter is a meditation on longing and grounding - a tribute to the Colorado mountains I called home, and the valleys that give them life. The vertical wooden beams stand like mountain sentinels - unmoving, elemental, eternal. Between them, fabric flows like the forces that animate the land: wind, water, fire, snow. These represent the valleys, ever-changing yet vital, balancing the solid form of the peaks. Together, they form a kind of shelter: not a roof, but a space held between opposites - permanence and movement, strength and softness. The lights on each beam echo the alpine glow, the fleeting moment when the mountains catch the last light of day. Shelter is not a place, but a feeling of home.