
49 x 31 x 2.75 in
oil paint on panel, poplar, maple frame


Most often, my art is about finding hope in the chaos.
It is often my response to the world and what’s going on around me. Over the years, I’ve made work about isolation, war, and a lot of gun violence. Each piece begins with the same question: How do I keep believing in goodness when so much feels wrong?
A few weeks ago, when Renee Good was senselessly killed on the streets of Minneapolis, I found myself thinking about her children. About their future. About all of ours.
I grew up in Minnesota. I went to school in Minneapolis. I started my family there. I have friends, relatives and nieces who are still there and part of the protests. I live far away, in a small town, what am I supposed to do?
Then I saw a post from @needleandskein about making red hats as a form of resistance and a symbol of unity. During World War II, Norwegians wore red knitted hats in quiet defiance of fascism until they were banned in 1942.
I’m not a knitter. I barely crochet and I don’t understand patterns but I bought the crochet pattern when it become available. I stitched, unraveled, and tried again, over and over, until a lumpy, red hat emerged.
Every day I saw more posts about red hats. They became my symbol of hope. A collective resistance that anyone could join, no matter where they were. Some people don’t knit, they just buy the pattern. All the money raised is donated to immigrant aid organizations in Minneapolis. So far, Needle & Skein, a yarn store, has raised over $850,000. Their goal is one million.
At the same time, I began sketching a new project. The piece I’m standing in front of is my reminder that there is hope in Minneapolis. The people of Minnesota and their resistance effort has been beyond encouraging. They are giving me hope and I’m proud to be from Minnesota.
The title is “For Good”.
The colors are from the Minnesota flag.
Renee has three children.
And now you know what the small red dots mean.
Resist any way you can.
