Acrylic, Gold Leaf on Canvas
The wind blows through a golden forest frozen in eternal sunset, bringing with it the scent of flowers. Bright colours begin to spread and grow, bringing the warmth and promise of springtime.
Sometimes we can get stuck in old paths, reacting to the same situations in the same way we always have. This can be for the good, but more often it can likely be more positive. Instead of allowing our pride or hurt feelings to get in the way, sometimes it can be best to let that whispering wind speak living, changing words to our hearts. Sometimes we can let it alter a course we have been holding on to for far too long. It can be scary, it can feel like a risk, but the new direction, the new air, the clean new breezes can invigorate our senses and little by little the stars change and we are transformed.
10″ x 40″
I’m not sure that I ever posted this image before. I painted it at the tail end of summer in 2005. I love watching beavers as they munch away at trees and swim around dragging ridiculously cumbersome branches behind them as they prepare winter caches and put the finishing touches on lodges and dams.
It’s especially fun when there are little ones about trying to help mom or dad, grabbing little twigs and swimming along beside their parents.
You have to be patient if you want to see this. You have to sit very still and you can’t shift or eat or sing or anything to pass the time. Just stillness and a good spot downwind (I assume…I actually don’t know much about beavers’ sense of smell). I do know that they are shy.
My dad used to to take us out to watch the beavers when I was small and the wonder I felt then continues to this day. Of course, the difference is that these days I don’t toss pebbles at them to hear the smack of their tails on the water surface anymore! Well, not always.
One thing that never left me is a sweet yearning to be able to dive down with them and watch as they make their home snug and secure; observe their little expressions of love and family; listen to the whimper of their gentle communication. Good old beavers. Their numbers aren’t so low now that we don’t make ostentatiously tall hats out of them (do we still make small hats?) but they are threatened by this manic development Alberta’s boom has brought.
Ah well, for now you can go out to almost any wetland-ish area with some deep waters and if you are very patient and very quiet, you can see them for yourself.
Unlike those stingy fairies. But that’s another story.
3′ x 4′
Our hearts are locked inside us, safe, beating away the minutes like the determined sound of a deep, dark drum. The warrior takes his heart out of his chest. It is touched by the air, by the sun, by snow and rain. Anyone who passes by can reach out and touch the warrior’s heart. It is sensitive and vulnerable, and can easily feel the soft brush of tears. It beats to the song of creation, and all who pass by can feel it in their bodies, their own heart responding , aligning, and breathing with that implacable rhythm. It is fierce and active and filled with fire.
The raven attacks the open heart at the same time as he protects it, caught between entropy and the growth of new stories, new moments, untold and unfinished lives. There are new worlds forming, called into being by the unstoppable heart…and raven, the carrion eater, will do as he must, and bring them light.
1 inch x 1 inch and a bit
Mixed Media on
I had a lot of fun painting this one. You’re seeing it about 4 or 5 times its original size. For some of it, I was reduced to using a single hair on the brush. As you can imagine, my face was right up to the painting the entire time. When I stopped working on it, there was a space of about 30 seconds when I couldn’t focus on anything past a couple feet.
Part of my Red Raven series, this piece carries a similar theme to the other works, which -luckily!- you can find in the archives from about September 2006 on.
Also, just another reminder that my solo show at the Bearclaw Gallery comes up on the 3rd of March. If you’re in the area, I invite you to stop by and say hello!
12″ x 16″
The rabbit is an archetypal trickster figure be it from ancient legends to B’rer Rabbit, to Bugs Bunny – a trickster and a culture hero.
In this portrait, I decided to show the old fellow a little on in years. His eyes have seen mirth, but also sadness, and I think it’s this sadness that gives the trickster his impetus, his drive to create temporary instability. The role of the trickster, ultimately, is to teach.
This grandfather rabbit has seen it all (or so he thinks) and when roused he can still pull off some real hijinks. If truth be told, he may not even be so old as he appears! He brings frustration, confusion, anger, and above all, and most importantly, laughter.
In fact, I think it’s safe to say about this little warrior is that he laughs so he doesn’t have to cry.