From the Archives

The Old Saint
Mixed Media on Canvas
2009

I painted this last year for a friend who really loves art, collects art and is just a good all round guy.

It’s an old spiritual man, a saint, listening to the whisperings of the spirits of the land. In Old Europe, Christianity was pretty much the only option for spiritual expression, so I really respect these old saints who tried to do what good they were able in their time. They were deep thinkers, clear writers, and really did their best to peer past the world we take for granted to understand the wonder that connects it all.

In front of him lies an illuminated manuscript. As Stephen King has said, telepathy exists and we call it books. We can literally read the minds of those who wrote their thoughts out for us.

I believe everyone has something to offer. The problem is we think we have to be experts or create the Most Amazing Thing Ever! If everyone who put themselves out there thought that, we’d live in a truly desolate creative landscape.

Whatever you have to give, give it now. There’s no better day to offer your gift than today, and whether the audience is great or small doesn’t matter. The truth is, whatever you do will pass through the years, through the generations and one day just might be the thing that changes someone’s life. We can never know what it will be or when it will happen.

So just create!

Offer what you can.

And let it go.

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From the Collection of the Artist

Caleoni
14″ x 18″
Mixed Media on Canvas
2010

This was painted half in Hawaii and half in Canada. It was my first time being overseas and the experience of Oahu really touched me. My time there was very special for me and I came to understand something amazing. When I first arrived, I was struck by the sheer humidity of the air, the gentle feeling on my skin. As the days passed and I walked in the valleys and along the beaches, as I swam and soaked in the sun, I began to see the spirit of the land, the energy. I saw the underlying currents of the winds, the water, the rock and soil. The entire island came alive under my feet!

I couldn’t delay. I bought paints, canvasses, supplies and sat in the hotel room every evening, painting away, the song of the island birds coming in through the vast windows.

I felt like a Black feathered Corvid out of my element and yet completely at home. A stranger in a strange and welcoming land.

My wife and I were talking about children, the possibility of a daughter. In that place of renewal and peace I imagined the child of our dreams, perhaps not this physical form represented, but I hope it captured the spiritual essence of what that child might be.

Since that time we have settled in at home and we are expecting a son. Perhaps that daughter is in the future, but for now, just knowing that a new little life is on it’s way, feeling him dance and kick in her belly, fills me with a wonderful joy.

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White Raven Series

Ice Raven
24″ x 30″
Mixed Media
on Canvas
2007

A comment from a friend on the White Raven series:

…the sense of blood and freshly frozen death that I feel fuels the bright bitter triumph, reaches for the promise of warmth in the yellow star as sun-seed, and wants to speak through the pink and mauve of the pinions.

Put another way: imagine the painting on the ground at midnight, a dead, dessicated white bird caught in a pool of ice, the moon reflecting just so an inch beyond its beak.

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