First Men on the Moon, 2012 Oil on linen 28 × 36 inches
First Men on the Moon, 2012
Oil on linen 28 × 36 inches

I am one to believe we actually of course did go to the moon, and being someone who was born in 1966 grew up with space as my final frontier in my aspirations of what could be possible in our life and in our dreams. Films and pictures of our journey in space have always compelled me—they are inherently sublime, and its amazing to me to think about journeying into space—all the astronauts always comment how small and insignificant our own world is by comparison, and how one can easily see a world without borders, where the battling of nations seem so insignificant in the big picture of the universe and its significance in the unthinkable enormity of the galaxy within galaxies. When my husband Andrew and I are at our cabin home in Riverside California, far away from civilization of New York as we know it, and transported into a different, quiet land, I feel as if we are two astronauts on the moon, forging our own territory as we plant each tree, beautifying our beatific parcel, something it reminds me of here as they are absurdly planting a flag claiming that space of the desolate moon for America. Of course Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin were deservedly heroes, and some of my first dim memories are of the live broadcast of this historic even on TV. I love this as a JFK national mandate—it seems so visionary, and something our current climate wouldn’t tolerate-it would be amazing to have our Presidents mandate that we need to send someone to Mars in our lifetime and return them safely to Earth. I also love anything science fiction, and Andrew and I are the first to see any movie about ships flying through space. It was fun and intense negotiating all the micromanaged space in this truly uncanny photo of space, and astronauts have claimed before to see or feel otherworldly beings observe them as they promenade in unknown galactic territory. To help get into the mood while painting this, I played a lot of Miles Davis, especially the stranger and darker works from the late 60’s and 70’s, that get otherworldly. Space is an amazing place to be but I wouldn’t want to be there forever, and glad I have the companionship of my husband to get me through the strangeness of this life.