River as Memoir

River as Memoir, Exhibition of sumi brush and pen drawings and letterpress

February 20 - March 24, 2023
by CB SHERLOCK

Combining images and text, I create narratives.
This river has always been part of my life. I returned to this river each summer. I know this river. My spirit has grown deeper and stronger because of this river. My memories have become image in awe of the Yellowstone River. Rushing, dancing in the sun, always in the moment.

Traffic Zone Gallery

I am Home

Each summer we return to the place where my heart is deep rooted — in the river singing, the rocks looming and the grasses waving. As the distance shortens, my feelings elate, I radiate joy. I am back. The ache of being elsewhere is gone.  There is something exhilarating in the arc of the sky, the elevation felt beneath my feet, the air seen in distances not possible in other places; my senses kick in, acknowledging that I am home, maybe not for long, but long enough. Eyes focus on each diverse detail in the grasses drying in the August sun, turning from wet green to prairie gold.  This place is full of memories, mine and others, memories that have been shaped by land, its angles and curves, by the blisters on our feet, by our freezing toes in the rushing waters, by our lungs catching breath as we submerge in the river for the forty seconds they can endure. I belong to each trail, bridge and vista, with the enormous rocks roosting beside the path passed on the way to the lookout for lunch. Again. Memories layer like vast vistas, of photos taken, of tears from the little ones pushed farther than they wanted to go, of oranges peeled, and white quartz, spring green lichen, silver weathered branches picked up in awe. My body remembers. My senses rejoice, I am home. Again.

Written in 2010 by CB Sherlock for her book Sweet Grass: My Place