About

11 Picture of me.jpg
 
 

Orphan Girl Fine Art

I grew up in Lincoln, a small Oregon community twenty-two miles east of Ashland along Highway 66, nestled in what is now the Cascade–Siskiyou National Monument. From my back door, I could explore seventy-five acres of towering pines and firs and encounter the wildlife that shaped my childhood.

When I was eleven, I rescued an American Robin, named him Navin, and released him back into the wild after three months of care. That experience changed me. Over the years, I continued roaming those woods, taking in orphaned and injured birds. I came to know their distinct personalities and, with luck, watched them return to the forest I loved. I learned the rhythms of that land — where a particular wildflower would bloom, where Tree Swallows nested, and where petrified wood surfaced after the first heavy spring rains. I encountered coyotes, held injured hawks and owls, and eagerly joined my father on twice-yearly trips to the Klamath Bird Refuge, where I learned to identify the hundreds of species that gather during migration.

Birds captured my heart. To date, I have rehabilitated hundreds of birds and several mammals, and I continue this work as a volunteer with Badger Run Wildlife Rehabilitation in Keno, Oregon. A portion of my proceeds supports wildlife rehabilitation efforts.

Orphan Girl Fine Art brings together my love of wildlife, my devotion to painting, and my affection for tea. I work in gouache on reclaimed tea bags. Each piece begins with a bird I have encountered or cared for. I prepare a canvas board with an India ink wash, creating a contemporary, abstract ground. The tea bags are dried, emptied, rinsed, and soaked over several days to neutralize acidity before being pH tested, flattened, and layered onto the surface.

By separating subject from background, I present each animal as an individual portrait rather than simply a representative of its species. The muted tones and delicate textures of the tea bags echo the softness of fur and feathers, lending warmth and intimacy to the work.

Working with wild animals is a profound privilege. Painting the birds I have known — and honoring their distinct personalities — is both an act of gratitude and devotion.

Erin M Linton