“It was hell. It was freaking hell.” The year was 1999. Construction crews were outside her door expanding Route 44. Day and night, Hocker was besieged with the smashing, banging, crackling, shouting, screaming, beep-beep-beeping of backhoes and bulldozers reshaping the world. “It was so bad, the mockingbird that lived in my yard started making the same beep noise, the same tone, the same space between the tones,” Hocker said. “I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown.”

In a last ditch bid to salvage her sanity – and to produce work for a fast-approaching exhibit -, the artist stole a bucket of gravel from the site, dumped the stones on colored paper, and sprayed them in paint. She expected the outlines underneath to emulate the madness of the construction. It didn’t.

“It was weirdly, hypnotically silent and calm – the exact opposite of everything that was going on,” Hocker said during a visit to her studio. “I had this sudden epiphany: rather than just expressing the anguish that I am going through, I could make art that would be the opposite. There would actually be healing.”

Hocker, who once focused her talent on letter-based sculptures, now travels the state’s forest and takes pictures of natural scenes – rivers and trees and other wonders in the woods. She then returns to her studio, performs a Tai Chi centering practice, and creates delicate yet forceful watercolors from her photos. Some of these pieces are simple rectangles; others are yards-long installations made of sequential panels; sometimes Hocker even sculpts pages into books resembling waves, all of which ties back to her training as a fiber artist and printmaker. 

Regardless of form or media, Hocker imbues each piece with quietude. “I’ve concentrated more on bringing that sense of tranquility and meditation into my work.” 

For viewers, and readers, the larger message is about leading a balanced life. “What Buddhists mean when they say that life is an illusion or when they say what we know of as reality isn’t actually real. It isn’t that something isn’t real – it’s [that] the most important thing is how you respond.” 

That’s the lesson Hocker took from the gravel and spray paint project those years ago. “I wasn’t able to sleep any better, but I found myself freaking out about it less.”

Experience the tranquility and awe of Barbara Hocker’s art at her website.