The Making of Cabled History Collection

Coming Undone - Cabled History collection - Watercolor on Paper by Sheryl Brake

How the Cabled History Collection Began

It was June of 2022 when my husband and I returned to the North Platte River for one of our annual fly-fishing trips. We have been fly-fishing on this stretch of water for a few years, but on this visit our guide suggested launching further upstream and floating a section of river we hadn't fished before.

While waiting along the riverbank, as the raft was being prepared, I wandered a short distance upstream and noticed several piles of rusted cables lying among the rocks. Still in shadow beneath the canyon walls, the cables were coiled and twisted into unexpected forms, their surfaces darkened and weathered with time.

Even before the sunlight reached them, the cables held my attention.

The Beauty in Rust

The cables had clearly been there a long time. Colored in shades of deep burgundy, rust, and hints of blue, they lay weathered and worn against the riverbank. I began photographing them, drawn to the way time had altered both their surface and form.

Some of the cables were unraveling as if weary of the work they had once performed. Others twisted and wrapped themselves around rocks smoothed by the river below, appearing to hold on. A few lay neatly coiled, compact and contained, as though waiting.

Sampling of reference photos taken

Nearby were smaller companions—nuts, bolts, and Crosby clamps—equally rusted and worn. Some appeared so fixed in place that they might never move again.

An Artist’s Eye

These cables were easy to overlook—functional remnants left behind along the riverbank. But as I spent time with them, their forms, color, and wear began feeling anything but incidental.

I was drawn to their surfaces and the evidence of time they carried, and I found myself wanting to understand them more fully—how they had been used, why they remained, and what they revealed once their original purpose had passed.

The Mystery of the Cables 

While I can't be certain of their exact origin, it was clear that the cables had been there for decades. Their wear suggested long use and exposure—objects shaped as much by time as by purpose.

Whether the cables had once played a role in construction along the river or had been used for another function entirely mattered less than what remained. Whatever their original task, it had passed, leaving behind form, tension, and surface altered by years of use and environment.

That sense of history—present but unresolved—was enough. I knew I would paint them.

Inspiration on the River

As we floated down the river that day, my attention kept returning to the cables along the bank—their color, the way light moved across their surfaces, and the forms they created against the rocks. I began thinking about how those elements might translate into paint.

Later that day, during a second float on the same stretch of river, I was able to photograph the cables again, this time fully lit by the sun. The shifting light and long shadows revealed even more structure and variation, confirming what had first caught my eye.

Naming the Series

The title Cabled History emerged naturally as I reviewed the reference photographs. There was a sense of history embedded in the cables—evidence of use, tension, and time—though the specifics were often unknown.

As I spent time cropping and studying the images, the individual paintings began to suggest their own names. Rather than describing the objects literally, the titles reflected what I observed in their form and condition: Coming Undone, Holding On, Coiled, and Embracing Light.

Selected works from the Cabled History collection are available here.

Palette and Cohesion

From the outset, I knew this series would require restraint. Working from a limited palette allowed the focus to remain on form, surface, and the subtle variations created by light and wear. Rather than relying on a wide range of color, I chose a small group of pigments that could be mixed and layered to reflect the earthy tones of rusted metal and river‑worn stone.

Using the same palette across the series helped establish visual cohesion. Each painting could stand on its own, but together they formed a unified body of work, connected by shared color relationships and tonal structure.

Back in the studio, I worked from the reference photographs I had gathered along the river, studying and cropping them to emphasize tension, weight, and pattern. Drawing played an important role in this process, allowing me to understand the cables’ structure before translating them into paint. The balance between control and responsiveness—between careful planning and allowing the medium to do what it does best—became central to how the paintings developed.

From Riverbank to Painting

What began with noticing a group of rusted cables along the riverbank developed into a sustained period of looking and translation. The forms, surfaces, and traces of use I encountered there became the foundation for a cohesive body of work.

Cabled History grew out of an interest in objects shaped by time, function, and environment—materials altered by use, left in place, and gradually transformed. Through careful observation and restraint, those remnants became paintings that hold both structure and ambiguity, allowing the work to exist without needing a complete narrative.

Additional studio notes related to the Cabled History series can be found here.