A square wooden frame. In the center of the frame is another square. A bronze piece of fabric with red, pink, cream, and brown, circles and suns. There are beads strung through parts of the fabric. The soft tufts of stalks of grass rests to the right. To the left, are a couple of nests. Around the fabric square is a band of white that is torn and colored by soil.

Meg Oldman

I’m re-imagining the world we share with all kinds of life forms. I’ve spent most of the last 20 years living in a redwood forest, and all that grows beneath them and beside them. I incorporate what I find on the forest floor into my artwork as a way of honoring what the natural world has to share… Human beings are only a small part of life forms here; we’re quite destructive, unlike any other life form with one exception: when human beings interrupt the non-human world, life rhythms become challenged, falling into violent responses from both human and non-humans alike. My intention is to draw attention to what I find in the forest and elsewhere, and how we can re-examine what’s important to see and hear for our survival.

My emotional response to living in the forest is profoundly involved with how I think about and see the world. All my emotions are heightened, and I’m much more aware of myself and how I fit into the fabric of being. They inform my art work, always.