Not all of Kratz's resin panels are as successful, however. Several fail to escape the prosaic reality of her chosen found objects and become mired in their own lack of subtlety. In Red Song, for example, a mass of segmented mesquite pods embedded in resin tinted to conjure blood misses the mark, never quite ascending to the poetic level to which the artist constantly aspires. In In the Quiet, a panel containing dismembered butterfly wings in inky brown resin is pitted against a moth pupa and shards of larval moth stages drowned in a luscious red resin. Uninspired, they are what they are, never proceeding any further than their ordinary import.
Mayme Kratz can never be accused of being stuck in the quagmire of repetition; she continues to slowly unfurl like the flower petals occasionally sprinkled through some of her latest endeavors. In the end, the work in "Waking in the Dark" demonstrates the artist's willingness to brave untested waters without the safety of the forms with which she has long been associated.
Objects are embedded into a small armada of resin boats in Exile, the closest Mayme Kratz comes to previous images.