Wilderness Ink: Heidi Skiba's Art and Adventure

New Blog Address

2011-06-03T08:42:00.002-06:00

Please make a note: Wilderness Ink has moved from Blogger to Wordpress.

Here's the new address: wildernessink.wordpress.com

See you there!

Weathering the Storms

2011-04-25T13:38:00.015-06:00

I finally had a chance to work on some art today. I am almost done carving my American Basin linocut, and hope to do the first proof of it next weekend. The past two weeks have been incredibly busy. I must be trying to make up for all that time I was stuck at home healing up!

My Certified Interpretive Trainer course with the National Association of Interpretation was phenomenal. I learned some great techniques for teaching others how to be effective interpreters, but the course affected me on a much deeper level than that: It reaffirmed my passion for interpretation and reminded me of why I went into this important field. My love for nature and wild places is endless, and I have a strong desire to help other people connect to their natural and cultural heritage so that these things can be cared for and preserved.

When I was severely sick in the hospital last fall with Ulcerative Colitis and trying to determine my treatment options, I felt that surgery gave me the best chance of returning to my profession fully capable of doing everything I did before. I remember one doctor making rounds in the hospital, who I had never met before, asked me if I could not just get a desk job and deal with the painful side effects of the medicine option instead of choosing surgery, which was a permanent and irreversible choice. I could not understand this mindset. I am certain the doctor had things that she loved so much that she would have gone through great lengths to sustain them. I was just lucky that my passions were also tied closely to my career. And being a naturalist, which is a job I wanted to pursue since I was a teenager, was not something I would give up on easily.

Of course, though the chances of things going well with surgery were excellent, there were never any guarantees. So when I left the building after conducting a solid and successful presentation for a portion of my certification requirement, the tears started flowing. I am normally a pretty stoic person, but knowing the struggles I had gone through and overcome to get to that moment released a flurry of emotion. I had made a difficult choice, persevered, and was building on the career I loved again. Things had turned out perfectly. I cannot wait to train an eager new group of naturalists once I finish my training credentials.

The day after finishing class, I headed out to prove to myself that I was still capable of another passion: backpacking. Doug and I had planned the overnight trip in Rocky Mountain National Park for several weeks, always saying that if the weather wasn’t looking great for such an early spring trip, we could always make a different plan. However, when we pulled up to the trailhead in a surprise snowstorm, we were not about to turn around. I was too excited! We hiked 2.5 miles to camp, toes and hands freezing, but ecstatic to be out in the wilderness again. When we got there, we set up camp, enjoyed some hot drinks and dinner and then jumped into our sleeping bags. It was too cold to do much else! We were thrilled to wake up to sunny skies and enjoyed a quick breakfast before heading out for a five-mile round-trip snowshoe excursion to frozen Fern Lake. Just as we arrived, another storm blew in and soon the snowflakes were flying again. We were able to see a glimpse of the surrounding peaks before they were quickly shrouded in snow. We made it back to camp, packed up the rest of our stuff and headed back to the trailhead. I was tired when I returned to the car, but so happy. I had successfully backpacked again and in very challenging conditions. Though it ended up being too cold to sketch on that trip, I still got some great reference photos for future projects.

And with that, I will end this entry. It is time to get back to some art-- my other favorite way to help people connect to wild places!

Carving with my snowboard instead of on my blockprint

2011-04-07T21:26:00.004-06:00

Even when I can’t get to my blockprinting, I usually at least try to do some sketches in my journal. This week, it just isn’t happening. Sunday, I went up to Loveland Ski area for my first snowboarding since surgery. I thought for sure I would get tired after a few runs, which would provide the perfect opportunity to cozy up in the lodge with my sketchbook and a cup of hot cocoa. However, the powder gods blessed us with over 8 inches of fresh powder. Once I got out in the fluffy and forgiving snow, I didn’t want to quit boarding. After a few spills early on, my muscle memory kicked in and I flew effortlessly down the slope, smiling gleefully. I only ended up stopping for lunch, when they closed the lifts for a bit due to high winds. I ended up boarding from when the lifts opened to almost when they closed.

Another evening, Doug and I went to watch the Colorado Rockies battle the Dodgers (and win). It was a gorgeous day, and we parked a distance from the stadium and rode our bikes there. Again, I almost brought my sketchbook thinking it might be fun to capture some of the action out on the field with my pens. However, we were sitting down the third base line, where ball after ball often flies into the crowd. Last summer when sitting in the same area, a spectator in front of us got hit in the face with a ball. I figured it was best to keep my eyes on the field instead of on my sketchbook in case I needed to duck, or maybe even catch a ball.

Now it is time pack. In a couple days I am leaving for a week to attend the National Association of Interpretation’s (NAI) Certified Interpretive Trainer workshop in Fort Collins. After completing the class and passing the credential requirements, I will be certified to train the staff and volunteer naturalists at my job site on the NAI curriculum. I am excited to take this course, as I love training fellow naturalists and sharing my love of natural history interpretation with others.

So, it may be a while before I post again. When I return from my course, I am going to get to work on completing my American Basin linocut. I want to finish the carving so I can print them up and start on the hand painting with watercolors. Though I love this project, it has been sitting on my desk for far too long, and I have a lot of ideas of other images floating around in my head that I want to start working on.

Snippets of Life

2011-03-29T20:13:00.010-06:00

I am sometimes amazed at a place’s ability to take me right back to different moments in time-- especially if it is somewhere that I have visited year after year. The location usually hasn’t changed much between visits, yet I have often gone through profound transformations since last stepping in that exact same spot. The sights and sounds of that specific place can often recall memories so strongly, that it is like watching a movie snippet of my life in my head.

On Sunday, I went on a hike on the Fowler Trail in Eldorado Canyon with Doug and our friend, Greg. From there, we continued up the spectacular Goshawk Ridge Trail, a path I had never followed before. Eldorado Canyon is one of those places I have visited numerous times, and it holds a lot of memories. As we started our hike, I came face to face with some artwork of a falcon on the trailhead sign that I did while working as a park naturalist at “Eldo” in 1995. Seeing that drawing took me to that summer, and I began to think back to all the hikes I led in that exact same spot. It was one of my first jobs as a naturalist, and I gained a lot of confidence and skills there that provided a foundation for my career. Eldo is also the place I started my very first illustrated sketchbook journal. Though I had kept a diary-like journal since I was a child, it was in the park that I was inspired to begin incorporating drawings into the pages. One afternoon, I went down to the creek after work, and drew a wild rose on the first page of my new sketchbook. Hundreds of pages and several volumes later, that love of sketching and writing lives on.

Later on Sunday’s hike, we approached a bench along the path and I remembered sitting in that same place, sketching with Molly Dog at my side. The Fowler Trail is an easy hike, and it was one of Molly’s first excursions after she lost her front leg to cancer. I recall being ecstatic as she happily galloped alongside me, and knowing that the tough choices we had to make in her treatment had allowed her to do the things she loved again.

Farther on the trail, we came upon the backside of the Bastille, a 600-foot rock formation. Over ten years ago, I had climbed every pitch of a long route on its north side as one of my first lead climbs (where I head up first and place all the gear to put the rope through to hold possible falls). Where I was now standing with Doug and Greg was the place I had descended from the top. I remember being utterly exhausted when I got down from that rock climb, but I also had a huge sense of accomplishment over doing something that was extremely challenging for me.

So what snippets from my life will be playing in my head when I am in Eldo at some future date? I imagine that I will be on an airy rock face, looking across the canyon at the Fowler Trail. From there, I’ll reminisce about the fun hike I had with loved ones. I will remember the beauty of exploring a new section of trail I had never been on before, and recall the strength I felt scrambling up the tiniest rock slab, feeling so alive again post-surgery. I will remember gazing longingly at the climbers on the rock faces across the canyon and knowing that I would be up there again someday.

No Longer Separating the Strands

2011-03-21T21:12:00.004-06:00

For a long time, I felt the only thing I should comment on in my art blog was drawing, painting and printmaking. It even felt strange to write about vacations, though these were often the inspiration for my wilderness-themed artwork so that seemed like an okay stretch. However, I am not very good at compartmentalizing my life into separate fragments. I view it more like a piece of fabric with everything intricately woven together. As I set out to start writing again post-Ulcerative Colitis (UC) and surgery, it feels very weird to hardly mention something that has been such a big part of my life lately, and to breeze through it in my last couple of posts in a sentence or two. After all, the whole experience has completely altered the lens through which I view life... and create art.

Though I had UC for years and managed to deal with it, this fall I finally saw it jeopardize the activities I am most passionate about and at the core of my life: outdoor adventure and art. I had never let the disease stop me from doing what I loved before. I often went climbing, skiing and hiking in the midst of flare-ups and just made do the best I could. Most of my friends and family didn’t even know I was sick. I was a master at covering it up. However it was on a 3-day backpack trip last September that I noticed my latest UC flare seemed to be entering a new level of severity. The last day of the trip we were going to take a fairly easy hike up a nearby peak. I, for the first time ever in my history with the disease, felt too ill to make the ascent. It really didn’t bother me at the time. I still had my other favorite thing to do: sketch. I sat on a boulder while Doug summited and recorded the landscape around camp in my journal, happy to be outside and immersed in the beauty of nature. That bliss was short-lived. As we hiked out to the car that afternoon, I started to really worry about how sick I was feeling and that this was not going to be my average UC flare. Ten days later, I was hospitalized for two weeks as my illness worsened and my health rapidly declined. I lost 25 pounds and could barely stand due to weakness. However, at that time my spirits remained fairly positive-- at least I was still able do my art. I had Doug bring my watercolors to my hospital room so I could paint from some of my wilderness photos on the internet, but my supplies never made it out of my bag. I was just too tired to be creative.

Eventually I got out of the hospital and regained strength with the help of a powerful drug. I was so excited to have my energy back. However, that same drug gave me excruciating joint pain, and I soon found I could no longer walk very well or hold a pencil. I stopped the medication, but the pain lingered. I spent a lot of time those weeks crying, wondering if I would ever be able to hike or draw again. I realized that having surgery to remove my colon was the best chance I had at regaining my life. I counted down the days until my consultation with a surgeon, hoping that I would be a good candidate.

Fortunately I was. Now, at almost five months post-op, I am simply amazed at how good I feel. All the side effects of medications are gone, I am back to hiking and sketching, and best yet, am cured of UC. Every day I make a new discovery of how life is better after surgery. I am filled with immense gratitude... for the support of my friends and family, for my incredible surgeon and for the opportunity to get a second chance to live my dreams.

My selection of photos for today’s blog post may not have made sense before: a journal entry from my backpack trip last September, some sketches I did in the park across the street while I was at home healing and a close-up of carving lines on my block print that I worked on this morning. But today it seems to fit. Art, my love of the outdoors, my illness and recovery-- it is all tightly woven together. And I am no longer attempting to separate the strands. Instead, I am going to take this new strong and beautiful fabric and create something amazing.

Just Ducky

2011-03-17T21:40:00.005-06:00

I have been so cooped up the past six months recovering from Ulcerative Colitis and having surgery, that I want to be outside constantly now that I am feeling amazing again. Monday I was really in the mood to do art, but it was gorgeous out and I didn't want to stay in my studio indoors. Instead, I packed up my nature journaling supplies and headed to the Wheat Ridge Greenbelt hoping to sketch some of the waterfowl that frequents the park. Every winter, my bird I.D. skills get a little rusty, and sketching is the perfect way to refresh my memory. When I journal, I usually go out without an exact plan and just let my curiosity lead the way. I wasn't five minutes down the trail when I caught a glimpse of a spectacular green-winged teal standing on a rock in the middle of Clear Creek. I say a glimpse because he flew off as soon as I pointed my binoculars in his direction. However, in the same area, I saw some American Wigeons and Northern Shovelers. I sat down to record them in my journal. As always, when I sketch in busy places, people love to stop and chat. Today was no exception-- I got to hear all kinds of stories about birds people had seen and their nature adventures. It is pretty neat to be able to connect to people this way when creating art.

When I was done sketching at the creek, I headed east on the path and spotted a boardwalk going into some cattails in an area of the park I had never explored before. I knew something had to be hiding by the pond in that direction, and soon found some mallards along the shore. One male I was viewing couldn't decide whether to stay in the water or on land which made for some frustrating sketching. I finally gave up and decided a portrait of his feet would have to do.
As the sun sank behind the foothills, I packed up. Before I returned to the car, I took a minute to enjoy the present moment. I closed my eyes, felt the last rays of sun warm my face, and listened to the calls of the birds in the cattails-- content with my "Just Ducky" day.

finally getting back to doing some art

2011-03-07T18:06:00.018-07:00

I have not written in my blog for some time, but am finally getting back to doing some art and writing. It has been a rough six months. In August, my husband and I lost our 13.5-year-old Chesapeake Bay Retriever, Molly (pictured below on one of our last trips together). Our little family unit had been pretty much inseparable for all these years--ever since she was only a couple of months old. From climbing 14ers to going on extended canoeing and backpacking trips, we had so many amazing adventures together. The grief we felt over losing her was huge.

Then in September, I became seriously ill after years of fighting ulcerative colitis, and had to put all my energy into getting better. Some of the drugs I took for my illness gave me horrendous joint pain, and I could barely hold a pen, let alone my linocut tools. The good news is that I am finally on the mend, off of all medications, and will be completely recovered and back to full health soon. (Knock on wood!)

Today I carved on a block for the first time since last summer, and I was in pure bliss to be doing what I love again. Every mark I made on my image of the spectacular San Juans also reminded me of how far I have come, and how I will be up in those mountains again soon.

Birthday Campout

2010-04-14T21:49:00.013-06:00

Some people like to go out to a fine restaurant for their birthday or get pampered at the spa. While those are certainly nice treats, I much prefer getting out for a good outdoor adventure. This year I spent my special day on an overnight camping trip. Finding a local campground that was open in April was a bit of a challenge, but fortunately with a little internet research, I discovered the Ansel Watrous site which sits in the spectacular Poudre Canyon just outside of Fort Collins. The pasque flowers blooming in our campsite reminded me how early in the season this camping trip really was, but I couldn't tell by the weather. It was a gorgeous 70 degrees and sunny. The relaxing pace of the trip made it the perfect opportunity to get out my journal and do some sketching. When nighttime came and writer's cramp set in, I put down my pens and enjoyed a special roasted-marshmallow birthday treat.

A New Year Brings a New Linocut

2010-01-10T16:48:00.004-07:00

A new year brings a new linocut, though I have really been working on sketches for this one since November. Two summers ago I took a watercolor class in the San Juan Mountains with the Colorado Trail Foundation. One of our painting excursions took us into the spectacular American Basin. Even though it was already August, the wildflower display was stunning. They had bloomed late that year because it had been a harsh winter and the deep snows had taken so long to melt. As I nestled down into the lush jungle of larkspur and rosy paintbrush, I could barely see the other course participants because the wildflowers were towering over my head. There was a big storm blowing in, and I knew I could never capture all the beauty of the landscape with my paintbrush before the lightning and pouring rain started, so I snapped some reference photos for future use. My new linocut is based off one of those photos. Drawing the scene takes me right back to that day: the wonder of being immersed in the gorgeous flowers, the excitement of the impending storm, the anticipation of heading back to the cozy cabin to warm up and chat with my course mates. I love the ability of art to take me right back to a place in time. I can't wait to see what other memories I recall as I begin to carve.

Summer in November

2009-11-06T21:19:00.005-07:00

I do a lot of hikes that require rushing. I am often trying to make a summit before storms hit or hurrying to a backcountry campsite before daylight fades. But how I relish the slow meandering walks when I can take out my sketchbook journal and really explore a place by drawing the things around me. Last Sunday the weather was gorgeous, so Doug and I went on a leisurely hike in the Flatirons in nearby Boulder, CO, with some friends. While they read, napped and explored on our lunch break, I set out with my sketchbook. One of my favorite journaling techniques is to walk around, stopping to draw whatever catches my attention at a given moment. When I am done, I always feel like I have made a deeper, more memorable connection with a place.

Summer Fun, Part Two

2009-10-12T15:12:00.006-06:00

My second big trip this summer was a 10-day canoe adventure in the Boundary Waters of Minnesota. I spent my childhood wandering the forests and fields of Wisconsin, and it was fun to be up in the Northwoods again. Living in the Western United States for the past 15 years, I had forgotten what it felt like to swim in warm, non-alpine lakes and to fish for something other than trout (boy- can those smallies put up a fight)! The plant life was amazingly lush, and I loved falling asleep each night to the call of loons.

We were even able to take along Molly, our three-legged wonder dog, as she was able to spend most of the time in the canoe (though she really impressed us by galloping along on all the portages). We had a couple of terrifying days battling big waves and almost swamping, and worrying that our campsite might blow away in a couple of intense thunderstorms, but we made it through unscathed. Through all the adventure, I had a couple of opportunities to sketch. The above drawing is of my favorite campsite overlooking a spectacular cove with rock outcroppings all around.

Summer Fun, Part One

2009-10-05T18:05:00.003-06:00

I didn't get much art done this summer, but did get to go on two long, amazing trips. One was a road trip to Banff National Park in Canada, with a side climbing trip to City of Rocks, Idaho. The other was a canoeing trip to the Boundary Waters in Minnesota which I will write about in another entry.

City of Rocks is an endless maze of blob-like granite outcroppings perfect for rock climbing. We spent 5 days there camping, scaling the rocks and savoring the gorgeous, sage-scented landscape. Though the beginning of the trip had us in every layer of clothing we brought, we were soon chasing the shade in 90-degree temperatures. One evening, I sketched a view of Elephant Rock, which we climbed just hours before.

Then it was on to Banff, Kootenai and Jasper National Parks, where we met up with my family and did some sightseeing. I soon realized the sheer size of these parks... it took all day just to drive from one park to the next. We enjoyed breathtaking scenery and walked up the shrinking Athabasca Glacier. The fact that the June sun rose before 5 a.m. and didn't set until after 11 p.m. should have given me plenty of time to sketch, but alas, it didn't. There were too many hikes to go on and sites to see.

Time to wake up the printing press

2009-09-12T19:58:00.002-06:00

It has been a gorgeous summer, which is great for hiking, gardening, climbing and traveling, but not so good for spending time in my art studio. I finally dusted off my hibernating printing press and added the last layer of ink on my Maroon Bells piece. Below is the final result… I hope to finish printing the edition in the next week and then it will be on to a new project.

Heidi goes the extra mile

2009-09-12T19:34:00.005-06:00

Heidi ran in this year's Sombrero Trail Run in Estes Park, Colo., under rain-threatening skies and surrounded by a mass of people. She finished the 4.5-mile jaunt in just under an hour--a great time for a first trail race. Pictured are Heidi and Molly warming up at the start line in the chilly air (though the dog stayed with the photographer during the run), and Heidi just after the post-race breakfast of pancakes, eggs, sausage and cowboy coffee.

Flyfishing trip turns into sketching trip

2009-04-09T21:26:00.003-06:00

I finished printing the first layer of the Maroon Bells print on Sunday using a "rainbow roll" to lay down a subtle gradation of ink that hopefully captures the essence of early morning light. The weather was gorgeous on Monday, so I headed out on a fly-fishing adventure with Doug and our friend, Karen. Little did we know, the canyon where we planned to fish had received over 14 inches of snow the day before and nothing had melted. After losing the trail numerous times in the deep powder, we finally made it down to the creek only to discover that it was still full of ice. We managed to find a few open pools, but the fish weren't biting. After repeatedly getting my fly stuck in the ice, I became frustrated and spent a bit of time exploring. The beautiful curves and shadows of snow-covered boulders along the stream caught my eye, and I traded in my fishing rod for my sketchbook.

Multi-block Maroon Bells print

2009-03-06T07:40:00.003-07:00

I stayed up late last night and did a quick proof of my new multi-block Maroon Bells print. I used cheap newsprint paper which warped and didn't take the ink very well, so the image is a bit lighter than the final version will be. I also need to fix a few registration mishaps, and I would like to adjust the colors of ink a bit, but so far I am satisfied with the results. I will begin working on the final prints this weekend.

step-by-step progress of the apple print

2009-03-02T21:32:00.004-07:00

The weather was gorgeous this weekend so I enjoyed a hike in the Eagles Nest Open Space near Fort Collins yesterday and a bike ride today. I also managed to finish my reduction cut of the apples. It was neat seeing the print develop as I added each new color. I was surprised by the final image because the apples didn't really "pop out" until I added the final layer of black ink. Before that, I was wondering if I was on the right track with the print because it just looked like a bunch of nebulous blobs of color. This is a very fun technique, and I am looking forward to trying another reduction cut soon. However, it is time to get back to my multiple-plate Maroon Bells print for now, which is carved and ready to print. Stay tuned!

Here are some more step-by-step images of the apple print:

Enter the apple project

2009-02-16T12:21:00.005-07:00

Sometimes, during a busy work-week, my art time is so limited that I feel I must make the most of it by only working on my serious projects. What a mistake. This limits my creativity and opportunity to try new things and learn, because I am afraid I might botch up a piece. Lately I have been striving to incorporate more time into my schedule to playfully experiment with my materials and techniques and to be okay with failing if it helps me improve.

This month, I found the perfect project to do this with. I take part in the printmaking forum on WetCanvas, an online artists' community, and decided to take part in this month's printmaking challenge by doing a reduction linocut of some apples. This project is challenging me in several of ways. First, the whole purpose of this project is to have fun--a sometimes difficult endeavor for me when I feel there is so much other work to be done. Second, I am used to doing works based on wildlife and landscapes and something as simple as fruit is a new subject for me. Third, and most important, I have never tried a reduction linocut before.

In a reduction linocut, the block is cut away as each new color is printed. Because the block is destroyed in the process, it is a very committing technique, and one that I have been afraid to try. What if I made a mistake and wasted all my time? Enter the apple project. This has given me a fun venue to try this style of linocut, and I like the technique so far. I am finding it is not as scary as I thought, and the cutting efficiency and perfect registration is a big advantage over using multiple blocks to add color. So far, I have done three colors and would like to add two more. Sure, I see things in my design that I would like to have done differently, but finally tackling a reduction print has been a invaluable learning experience. I can't wait to try another one!

Website gets facelift

2009-02-09T13:51:00.005-07:00

While Heidi has been busily working on her reduction print today, I've been giving www.wildernessink.com a facelift. It needed help, as we've been using the tired and once-novel Papyrus font for years, and it had cobwebs in a few places. The pages now have a little new color, a redesigned "masthead" (now visible on this blog as well), and a cleaner entry page.

"Wyoming Storm," one of my favorite watercolors, catches the viewer's eye on the main page.

The brayer meets the ink

2009-02-02T15:37:00.004-07:00

Finally, I have a whole day to spend in my studio. After carving my latest block for what seems like forever, it is finally time to get my ink out and play with the press. I have just started using oil-based inks due to their longer working time. At first I was fearful of their reputation for being messy and hard to clean up. I soon discovered that by using veggie oil and eco-cleaner, tidying up was a snap. I was also afraid that the odor of the inks would bother me, but I have found the opposite to be the case. I love the smell of the inks--they remind me of an old-time art studio and take me back to high school art class--my creative haven from lesser-loved subjects like calculus and physics.

My first step today is to make some proofs to see if I like the final image produced from the block. Then I will use this "key" block to transfer images to my other three pieces of linoleum. I will use these blocks to produce the other colors in my image. A lot more carving lies ahead, but the blocks for the other colors will be less detailed than the black one. Using multiple blocks is a new technique for me, but I am eager to learn.

Heat wave in January

2009-01-19T19:33:00.006-07:00

Yesterday, I carved the last bit of my most detailed block for the Maroon Bells print. Next up, the plate that will provide the blue color to the piece.

Today it was too beautiful outside to stay in the studio. Doug and I took advantage of the 65-degree temperature to climb at North Table Mountain in Golden. The sun was cooking the cliffs and it felt like a hot summer day instead of the middle of January.

Winter Hiking Adventure

2008-12-28T18:15:00.008-07:00

On Christmas Eve, Doug and I took our dog, Molly, who lost one of her front legs in August to cancer, hiking up near St. Mary’s Glacier. We weren’t sure what to expect, as she hadn’t hiked the trails since her surgery. Wow, were we surprised. She galloped along ahead of us and we could barely keep up. The wind was blowing at 40+ mph, and when we got up to the lake we couldn’t even see the scenery because of all the blowing snow. After a sad and stressful autumn dealing with Molly’s cancer, her amazing progress has been the best holiday gift.

My other days off around Christmas were spent snowboarding and working on my latest print of the Maroon Bells. I did a proof of the upper part of the image and still need to add some reflections. I am tempted to stop here and tint the black-and-white image with watercolors, a style I really enjoy doing. However, I want to challenge myself with a new technique and want to add color to this image using multiple plates instead.

Maroon Bells linocut on a minus-15-degree day

2008-12-15T15:05:00.001-07:00

The minus-15-degree temperature this morning killed my snowboarding plans, so I spent the day carving on my next linocut—a scene of the Maroon Bells near Aspen, Colo. I am hoping to make this a five-colored design using multiple plates. The plate pictured will be the most detailed.

Two New Block Prints Added to wildernessink.com

2008-11-27T10:08:00.007-07:00

I've added two new block prints to WildernessInk that I hope you'll enjoy.

The first is a hand-colored wood-cut of a mountain goat titled "Mountain Surveyor.

The other - a linocut - depicts the approach to the east face of Longs Peak, referred to as "The Diamond" by climbers.