The New River Gorge Goddess
This piece highlights two invasive species that have become deeply associated with the South, even though neither is truly native here.
Kudzu was introduced in the 1930s to combat erosion along roads and railroads because of how quickly it spreads. In only a few decades, it overtook the southern landscape, climbing trees, covering buildings, and becoming nearly impossible to control. Kudzu is now so familiar that it’s become an icon of southern imagery—woven into everything from festivals to folk sayings.
Coyotes spread into the Southeast after the decline of apex predators like cougars and wolves. They were also intentionally introduced for hunting purposes, which helped establish their presence here. Though often viewed negatively, coyotes play an ecological role by keeping populations of smaller animals in check, ultimately boosting biodiversity in the absence of larger predators.
By pairing these two species together, this piece raises awareness of how easily invasive species can thrive once introduced, and the complicated ways they reshape the balance of an ecosystem. No matter where you stand on kudzu or coyotes, they have both become unlikely staples of the southern landscape.
Can you think of other species that aren't native to our area that are common?
The Wampus Cat
Have you ever heard a woman's cry in the woods? In the Appalachias it could be the Wompus Cat. Described by some as a mountain lion with six legs, others say a woman with a mask on with supernatural strength. However you describe this Appalachian cryptid there is one thing for certain: behind it lies a good story.
The Buck Moon
The Buck Moon will be the next story in The Lost Fables of Appalachia series. This tale, named for the time of year when young deer begin to grow their antlers, will be about a young buck named Roscoe. He has big dreams of becoming the king of the forest and to do that all he needs to do this is to pluck the moon from the sky with his antlers.
In the Appalachian forests anything is possible, from mountain magic, cunning trickery, and lessons learned. Stay tuned to read about Roscoe in The Buck Moon.
The Gallery
The Man From Thurmond
This piece is deeply personal, a way to honor the memory of my father, Jim Kelly, whom I lost at Christmas in 2024. He was born in Thurmond, West Virginia, in a house that sat along the train tracks. Shaped by the river that carved the gorge, he grew up alongside it. The woods and mountains were where he felt most at peace, a sense of belonging he passed down to his youngest daughter.
The work itself is inspired by the last fishing trip my father and I shared. When I was a child, he took me fishing; as an adult, I had the rare chance to return the gift. I brought him to my favorite rivers and the quiet places that had become mine over the years. It was a simple day, but a sacred one, a moment of reversal, where I guided him through the landscapes that shaped me, just as he once guided me.
Losing my father gave my art a voice: Appalachia. Fueled by grief and a longing to create something in his memory, everything I make is rooted in the love I have for him.
Bringing my art and stories back to the place where he began feels like the truest way to honor my dad.
