A MUSEUM IS A TRANSFORMATIONAL SPACE.
As a child, a trip to the Field Museum of Natural History in Chicago began at the foot of the stairs—a grand entry into a space that exploded my imagination. Dinosaur skeletons. The taxidermy of exotic mammals. Glorious, colorful butterflies in glass cases with scientific names that alluded to the faraway jungles and rainforests of their origin—as well as the intrepid explorers who dedicated their lives to their discovery. And mummies—from incomprehensibly ancient times.

 

I was drawn into the dioramas of prehistoric times with humans experiencing the natural world in admirable and resourceful ways—making fire, crafting bow and arrows and clothing. The life of Indians of North America spoke of people living closely with their surroundings—an integrated life, to my eyes—where food, clothing, tools, and weapons reflected more than utility.

 

I think the museum must have been the first place I encountered feelings of spirituality—sensations I also found outside the man-made museum temple—in the forest and prairie near my childhood home, outside the city. These feelings grew when I made my way west to the mountains and waters of Montana and the Pacific Northwest, and with even more powerful resonance in the vast wilderness of Alaska’s Arctic.

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The confluence of the natural and cultural world holds my attention. It is a place I honor—also a place of humility, challenge, embarrassment, humor, and above all—lessons. It is an elemental place—where I sense life at an atomic level—and revel in how life has evolved over time in such complex ways from the most basic cosmic ingredients.

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With my art, I am building a record of what it means to me to be alive. Being in nature is where I feel life most keenly-- and also when I hear music, feel a beautiful piece of cloth, or read a poem I don’t fully grasp—but love nonetheless.

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I'M A BOOK PUBLISHER, and it fills my day and defines my life. There’s a feeling I get when I meet someone for the first time, and they tell me about a book they want to write. They then begin to share moments of their life that engaged them in something greater than themselves that they believe has made, or will make, a tangible difference in this world.

 

Over time, the stories that most sway me are about saving wild places from desecration and oblivion. I want to bridge the gulf that prevents others from feeling the strong connection and sheer joy of  the beauty of the natural world. Through these books and the writers and photographers I work with, I hope to convince others to feel there is a reason for this life, and for this moment—and to fight for it.

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I'M ALSO AN ARTIST, and until quite recently my body of work has been my private affair—separate from my public life. Through my art, I thrill with losing myself and becoming a hostage to my imagination—I'm delighted by the freedom and ambiguity.

 

I hope my work resonates with the wonder and memory of imagining creatures and stories from moving clouds, or thoughts of traveling to distant stars suspended in a dark and velvety sky.

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The figures I create are cultural artifacts with myths and rituals for a tribe that doesn't exist, except in my imagination.

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Helen Cherullo