mnartists.org: Kari Maxwell

milkweed 2

Kari Maxwell — Tue, 15 Jan 2013 13:51:12 GMT

imperfect collection: lake superior

Kari Maxwell — Mon, 05 Nov 2012 13:04:37 GMT

imperfect collection: neighborhood

Kari Maxwell — Mon, 05 Nov 2012 13:00:27 GMT

URBAN EARTH, a shift in perception I spent my childhood exploring the shores of the Northern California coastline. I celebrated my birthdays in the midst of the giant red wood forests. As a young adult, I spent my time in the mountain ranges of Montana, hiking, biking and skiing. There is such power in nature's majesty: ocean, mountain, tall, tall tree. When I moved to Minneapolis ten years ago, I spent years trying to find "my place" in the midwest: exploring less traveled lakes, parks, and rivers. I would leave these places with a feeling of defeat. Although I was grateful to have these opportunities in a city, my heart still ached for those limitless, grandiose spaces. Where was my place? Once I acknowledged and accepted that I wouldn't be able to experience the nature I knew, slowing but surely, nature made herself known to me. I was surprised by her form of communication. It started out as quiet and subtle. I walk daily: in my neighborhood, around the lakes, through the parks, down by the river. Slowly, my eyes shifted from searching for the larger picture to seeing the smaller one: nature's detail. I felt reborn. It was baffling to me that I could have the exact same relationship with nature that I had had in the past (it was just up to me to be willing to change my perception). These images represent the detail of nature: something I have always overlooked while being captivated by nature's giants. I am grateful for experiencing nature, now, with every step I take. Have we taken the time to acknowledge what, may at first, seem small? Have we taken the time to experience them? This is my attempt to do so. Kari Maxwell is a self taught artist currently residing in Minneapolis, Minnesota. She has been exhibiting her work for over 9 years and is represented by three galleries in the midwest.

hope is the thing with feathers

Kari Maxwell — Mon, 30 Apr 2012 19:02:52 GMT

crossing the threshold

Kari Maxwell — Sun, 29 Apr 2012 11:22:45 GMT

URBAN EARTH, a shift in perception I spent my childhood exploring the shores of the Northern California coastline. I celebrated my birthdays in the midst of the giant red wood forests. As a young adult, I spent my time in the mountain ranges of Montana, hiking, biking and skiing. There is such power in nature's majesty: ocean, mountain, tall, tall tree. When I moved to Minneapolis thirteen years ago, I spent years trying to find"my place" in the midwest: exploring less traveled lakes, parks, and rivers. I would leave these places with a feeling of defeat. Although I wasgrateful to have these opportunities in a city, my heart still ached forthose limitless, grandiose spaces. Where was my place? Once I acknowledged and accepted that I wouldn't be able toexperience the nature I knew, slowing but surely, nature made herselfknown to me. I was surprised by her form of communication. It started out as quiet and subtle. I walk daily: in my neighborhood, around the lakes, through the parks,down by the river. Slowly, my eyes shifted from searching for the larger picture to seeing the smaller one: nature's detail. I felt reborn. It wasbaffling to me that I could have the exact same relationship with naturethat I had had in the past (it was just up to me to be willing to change myperception). These images represent the detail of nature: something I have alwaysoverlooked while being captivated by nature's giants. I am grateful for experiencing nature, now, with every step I take. Have we taken thetime to acknowledge what, may at first, seem small? Have we takenthe time to experience them? This is my attempt to do so.

miracles in the making, 10 x 10, acrylic on canvas

Kari Maxwell — Sun, 18 Mar 2012 16:30:36 GMT

URBAN EARTH, a shift in perception

I spent my childhood exploring the shores of the Northern California coastline. I celebrated my birthdays in the midst of the giant red wood

forests. As a young adult, I spent my time in the mountain ranges of Montana, hiking, biking and skiing. There is such power in nature's

majesty: ocean, mountain, tall, tall tree.

When I moved to Minneapolis thirteen years ago, I spent years trying to find"my place" in the midwest: exploring less traveled lakes, parks, and rivers.

I would leave these places with a feeling of defeat. Although I wasgrateful to have these opportunities in a city, my heart still ached forthose limitless, grandiose spaces. Where was my place?

Once I acknowledged and accepted that I wouldn't be able toexperience the nature I knew, slowing but surely, nature made herselfknown to me. I was surprised by her form of communication.

It started out as quiet and subtle.

I walk daily: in my neighborhood, around the lakes, through the parks,down by the river. Slowly, my eyes shifted from searching for the larger

picture to seeing the smaller one: nature's detail. I felt reborn. It wasbaffling to me that I could have the exact same relationship with naturethat I had had in the past (it was just up to me to be willing to change myperception).

These images represent the detail of nature: something I have alwaysoverlooked while being captivated by nature's giants. I am grateful for

experiencing nature, now, with every step I take. Have we taken thetime to acknowledge what, may at first, seem small? Have we takenthe time to experience them? This is my attempt to do so.

tiny portrait, NFS

Kari Maxwell — Tue, 15 Mar 2011 06:22:14 GMT

where two meet, 16X20, acrylic on canvas

Kari Maxwell — Sun, 24 Oct 2010 15:37:24 GMT

URBAN EARTH, a shift in perception

I spent my childhood exploring the shores of the Northern California coastline. I celebrated my birthdays in the midst of the giant red wood

forests. As a young adult, I spent my time in the mountain ranges of Montana, hiking, biking and skiing. There is such power in nature's

majesty: ocean, mountain, tall, tall tree.

When I moved to Minneapolis thirteen years ago, I spent years trying to find "my place" in the midwest: exploring less traveled lakes, parks, and rivers.

I would leave these places with a feeling of defeat. Although I was grateful to have these opportunities in a city, my heart still ached for those limitless, grandiose spaces. Where was my place?

Once I acknowledged and accepted that I wouldn't be able to experience the nature I knew, slowing but surely, nature made herself known to me. I was surprised by her form of communication.

It started out as quiet and subtle.

I walk daily: in my neighborhood, around the lakes, through the parks, down by the river. Slowly, my eyes shifted from searching for the larger

picture to seeing the smaller one: nature's detail. I felt reborn. It was baffling to me that I could have the exact same relationship with nature that I had had in the past (it was just up to me to be willing to change my perception).

These images represent the detail of nature: something I have always overlooked while being captivated by nature's giants. I am grateful for

experiencing nature, now, with every step I take. Have we taken the time to acknowledge what, may at first, seem small? Have we taken the time to experience them? This is my attempt to do so.

in reverence, 16 X 20, acrylic on canvas

Kari Maxwell — Sun, 24 Oct 2010 15:33:47 GMT

URBAN EARTH, a shift in perception

I spent my childhood exploring the shores of the Northern California coastline. I celebrated my birthdays in the midst of the giant red wood

forests. As a young adult, I spent my time in the mountain ranges of Montana, hiking, biking and skiing. There is such power in nature's

majesty: ocean, mountain, tall, tall tree.

When I moved to Minneapolis thirteen years ago, I spent years trying to find "my place" in the midwest: exploring less traveled lakes, parks, and rivers.

I would leave these places with a feeling of defeat. Although I was grateful to have these opportunities in a city, my heart still ached for those limitless, grandiose spaces. Where was my place?

Once I acknowledged and accepted that I wouldn't be able to experience the nature I knew, slowing but surely, nature made herself known to me. I was surprised by her form of communication.

It started out as quiet and subtle.

I walk daily: in my neighborhood, around the lakes, through the parks, down by the river. Slowly, my eyes shifted from searching for the larger

picture to seeing the smaller one: nature's detail. I felt reborn. It was baffling to me that I could have the exact same relationship with nature that I had had in the past (it was just up to me to be willing to change my perception).

These images represent the detail of nature: something I have always overlooked while being captivated by nature's giants. I am grateful for

experiencing nature, now, with every step I take. Have we taken the time to acknowledge what, may at first, seem small? Have we taken the time to experience them? This is my attempt to do so.

image: untitled, 16 X 20, acrylic on canvas

running with the sun, SOLD

Kari Maxwell — Sun, 03 Oct 2010 02:25:00 GMT

image: running with the sun, 10 X 8, acrylic on panel

traveling with butterflies

Kari Maxwell — Sun, 03 Oct 2010 02:23:40 GMT

june, 12 X 12, oil on canvas

Kari Maxwell — Thu, 13 May 2010 12:47:53 GMT

[b]About her work, Maxwell writes: [/b]"Regardless of subject, I continue to find that my work is a reflection of where I have been [url=http://www.flickr.com/photos/karimaxwell/sets/72157623255807580/][img]http://www.mnartists.org/ejournal/images/4292710083_1d8b766da5_b.jpg[/img][/url]or a hint of where I may be going. I work intuitively. With proper rest, solitude, meditation, affirmation and what seems like millions of collages, doodles, paintings and photographs gone to waste, a new body of work is born. My most successful paintings occur when I lose all inhibitions and make a mess. I honor the days of creative freedom, when what is 'wasted' is just as important as what is left. My challenge as an artist is to trust that this is part of my process, creating another layer of the story. "My inspiration for these paintings are images I have seen, experienced, or created. I use these images to create a palette and/or composition, but eventually I try to let the painting lead the way. For me, this is when I become one with my process, and the painting takes on its own expression. When a painting is complete, it reveals an answer to a question or confirms a recent emotional or spiritual understanding or growth within myself."

corona arch

Kari Maxwell — Sun, 21 Feb 2010 23:23:18 GMT

full flight, 12 X 12, acrylic

Kari Maxwell — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 14:21:42 GMT

winter's whisper, SOLD

Kari Maxwell — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 01:35:07 GMT