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From the base to the top of the globe is 15" tall. The globe itself is approximately 13" in circumference.

The third photo is a detail, the forth is a photo of this globe and another I painted (the other one sold in a gallery exhibition last fall).

Free shipping in the US. Message me about shipping costs outside the US.

Amy Rice Artist Statement:

For the past ten years I have used nontraditional print-making methods--including hand cut stencils and a Japanese screen printing toy called a Gocco printer--as a starting point for original mixed media pieces. I use spray paint, acrylics, gouache, and inks, and print on antique papers (preferring handwritten love letters, envelopes, journal pages, sheet music and maps). My surfaces have also included one-hundred year old cedar shingles, barn boards, rusty metal, wooden and metal boxes, wooden panels and discarded cabinet doors.

I am most satisfied when I can make a tangible or visceral connection between the materials used and the image rendered. My work is deeply layered, often both literally and figuratively. My imagery--nostalgic and wistful--is largely biographical and reflective of my pensive nature.

I am as inspired in my art by childhood memories of growing up on a Midwestern farm as I am the urban community in which I now live. I am inspired by bicycles, street art, gardening, random found objects, collective endeavors that challenge hierarchy, acts of compassion, downright silliness, and things with wings.

www.amyrice.com

"Earth Laughs in Flowers" is from the poem, Hamatreya by Ralph Waldo Emerson

Hamatreya
By Ralph Waldo Emerson 1803–1882

Bulkeley, Hunt, Willard, Hosmer, Meriam, Flint,
Possessed the land which rendered to their toil
Hay, corn, roots, hemp, flax, apples, wool, and wood.
Each of these landlords walked amidst his farm,
Saying, “’Tis mine, my children’s and my name’s.
How sweet the west wind sounds in my own trees!
How graceful climb those shadows on my hill!
I fancy these pure waters and the flags
Know me, as does my dog: we sympathize;
And, I affirm, my actions smack of the soil.”


Where are these men? Asleep beneath their grounds:
And strangers, fond as they, their furrows plough.
Earth laughs in flowers, to see her boastful boys
Earth-proud, proud of the earth which is not theirs;
Who steer the plough, but cannot steer their feet
Clear of the grave.
They added ridge to valley, brook to pond,
And sighed for all that bounded their domain;
“This suits me for a pasture; that’s my park;
We must have clay, lime, gravel, granite-ledge,
And misty lowland, where to go for peat.
The land is well,—lies fairly to the south.
’Tis good, when you have crossed the sea and back,
To find the sitfast acres where you left them.”