Kari Vick, Ink.
I was raised as an artist by an artist. As an anniversary gift for my parents, my siblings and I decided to assemble an album of our memories. I drew mine. It never even occurred to me to use photographs.
I collect stories. Sometimes I find them, other times they find me. Working in my garden, sitting at a campfire, or foraging for blueberries… they wander into my life. Beit ancient mythology, local folklore, or my own eye witness account; the image of story is instantly manifest to me. As an artist and writer, I simply put it upon paper.