Bri (she/her) holds a copy of The Flyfish Journal from this autumn featuring her artwork on the cover and expanded gallery feature. Accompanying words written by Jesse Robbins.
Hello! Somewhere between good program chaos, spending more time out west, and not keeping up with my blog/website, this feature came together. And now you can see some of my favorite work in print!
I fished with the editor of the journal this spring as part of a brand’s product release we both attended, and after some tiny fly frustration in strong winds on spring creeks, business cards were exchanged and anglers parted ways. A little while later, I was approached to share a compilation of my work including the Birds With Flies series to be included in a future issue of the journal. A few images turned into a full on interview and gallery, and this lovely warbler on the cover.
Honestly, I was terrified by the possibility of things I made being shared far beyond my personal reach, beyond those I have opportunity to build relationship and understanding. These pieces are highly personal, my bird series still feels full of unexplored potential, and my attempts to carve out more working time for art making have typically been compromised for one last cast on the river or one more email. I haven’t exactly felt like a practicing artist. I’ve also maintained a strong habit of downplaying this side of my work, perhaps to rationalize other professional prioritizations or protect myself from the kind of vulnerability creative process taps into. Finally, I’ve felt uninterested in having eyes on me given the stage of deconstruction, healing, and rebuilding going on in my personal life.
You can’t really choose a timeline in this life, and though I’ve held this truth to some degree, I’ve learned new depths. Suggestions of structure or control are fabrications to maintain a false sense of predictability and order, benchmarks are often not self-determined with intentionality — rather, typically determined by an outside perspective looking to take advantage — and in the end the inevitable unexpected still knocks us down. In conversation with some of my closest humans, we’ve reflected on how happiness has often felt more synonymous with relief, rather than a feeling of joy. By the time relief washes over, we’re exhausted by all the running of scenarios that we cannot meet the moment with openness or play, but rather necessary rest.
This summer, while not updating the blog, writing newsletters, answering emails or sending invoices in a timely manner, or working on websites, I expanded my understanding of joy. I moved with more embodied direction, opted for what felt good and what supported healing, I offered myself more grace when burnout imbalance upended any sense of work and life separation; more, but not enough. I’m starting to accept existing more in process. I’m starting to chase joy rather than relief.
Perhaps this is an unrelated elaboration to my work being published in a magazine, but writing this raw feels okay, and perhaps contextualizes who I am without a promise of static being moving forward. How you see me represented here is a moment, an interpretation, and remains in flux. Each thing doesn’t need to be all the things. I’m excited for what this is: a humbling feature where I worked with people I respect, with another dear friend among the pages, and lots of room to grow from here.
If you want to grab a copy for yourself, please do so by supporting your local fly shop! Even better: grab a print of the featured art from me.
Blackburnian Witch is one of seven from the series featured in The Flyfish Journal. Prints are available for purchase here.