Another

Autumnal
Acrylic, Oil, Fabric and
Gold Leaf on Canvas
2009

As much as I identify with the raven, I have to acknowledge the power the rabbit has played in my life. Anytime I have made an important decision I have immediately seen a rabbit to let me know I chose correctly. In this painting the rabbit is ahead of its time. The landscape is still that drying rust of change. Plants have yet to sleep and here is the rabbit clothed in white, camouflaged from nothing. A prescient understanding of what is to come? A careful nudge in the right direction?

All I know is that whatever the message, there is an innate and quiet understanding here. One full of breath and open spaces.

More Art

Home
Acrylic, Gold Leaf and Fabric
on Canvas
2009

Painted in the late Fall of 2009, this painting symbolizes the snuggling in we Northerners love to do when the air is crisp and snow is on the edge of the senses. Like a premonition. A rumour.

Here the cub nestles in with mama wolf. In the distance an encampment of tipi's is gathered near the river, personal hearths billowing a soft smoke into the night sky. The moon watches from overhead, serene and cool.

I love Autumn colours, the richness, the warmth, the slight faded feeling. The calm before the long cold night.

Art!

Transformation
Acrylic, Gold Leaf on Canvas
2009

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.

.

Little Helpers

10" x 40"
Mixed Media
On Canvas

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.