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Detail of "The Spirit of Stories" © Terri Windling, 1996 Click here for a larger image.

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Friends from the desert's Native cultures have taught me the importance of ritual in daily life--not only as an expression of spiritual connection to the earth, but also as an expression of the connection between spirit and art. I have set up my studio in a way that reminds me that it is sacred space, and that the work I do there is a kind of prayer--or a "medicine" (as these friends would say) offered up to my community and the world at large. Often before I pick up the brush I take time for some small ritual act to invite the spirits of the land into my work and to honor the daemon that sings through me. Burning a bit of cedar or sage, or smoking tobacco in a prayerful way (in a pipe or wrapped in dried corn husk) are rituals learned from Native practices, but one's own personal rituals can also be effective: meditation, or breath work, or something as simple as a ritual cup of coffee or a ritual way of preparing the palette or the desk. I believe that our best work, though shaped by our intellect and craft, comes from someplace outside ourselves--what the Lakota calls Wakan Tanka, the Great Mystery. My desire is to be a clear vessel through which that Mystery can flow...manifesting itself as paint or ink or words on the page. Mystery is usually followed by Trickster, that annoying spirit who goes by many names: Coyote, Puck, Loki, Hermes, the Wise Fool of the tarot card deck. Trickster makes his presence known in strange impulses, slap stick humor, stupid mistakes and spilled bottles of ink, pushing us into new realms we'd not discover without his aggravating presence.

It has long been my belief that the greatest work of art we create is our lives, every aspect of which can have the artfulness of a painting or a poem: our relationships, our environments, the daily tasks required to keep a roof overhead no less than the work of the pen or brush. (By living life artfully, I don't mean that we must strive for some ideal of perfection--for some of our most profound creativity is born from mistakes and accidents.) The Navajo refer to a life lived in balance and spiritual grace as _hohzo_, Walking in Beauty. The paintings I have contributed to this exhibition are manifestations of my own attempts to Walk in Beauty from day to day, learning from the spirits of the land around me.

In old folktales and mythic traditions, gifts received must be kept in motion. I've received so many precious gifts from my two homes in Devon and the desert, and from the spirits of those contrary lands. Creating paintings and writing books are just my way of keeping those gifts moving.