Joyce McJilton Dwyer
I grew up on a farm in the Great Lakes area. I am a remote farmer of that same land my great grandparents started and am now co-owner of the farm. One of my fondest memories is looking out from my second-floor bedroom window at the planted landscape. What I remember is the land as beautiful. I saw the delicate morning light, watched and listened to the late summer corn rustle in the breeze and still witness waves of grain growing amongst the woodlots.
I love the land, looking at it, walking on it and smelling the air and the moist dirt after rain. After painting on the farm for at least three decades, I see more deeply the scenes before me, noticing the subtle colors and the play of light on the fields.
The landscape spoke to me. I remember drawing and coloring from a very young age. Painting started much later as a way to express my love of making things. I instinctively gravitate toward doing that.