Sparkling Springs, Virginia

In the mountains west of Harrisonburg in the Shenandoah Valley is a small community begun in the 1890s by Mennonites looking for a retreat from summer heat. Since then, generations of families have enjoyed Sparkling Springs, named for the mineral springs that bubble up at the base of the mountain. One of the cabins, built by the great-grandparents of David’s wife, remains in the family today.

Artist’s Statement

Early in my acquaintance with my wife’s family, I met Sparkling Springs. Cool and dark and smelling of earth and decaying leaves, the Springs seemed to me from another era. From the curtains in the cabin made of cotton feedbags, to the water buckets by the kitchen sink to the rocking chairs on the screened in porches, the physical objects that surrounded me seem to give off their own inner light. And the weather was magical, especially in early spring and late fall when visitors were few and we could spend the night in the warmth of the old wood stove. There are ghost at Sparkling Springs but they are gentle and comforting. For this place, egg tempera seemed the best medium.