This is one of my newest works. I have let loose the artistic beast so to speak, and have moved away from the controlled brush stoke. The control is for those other artists that love to make things look like they are real.
My job, as I see it is to expose the soul of the painting, to bring you into the storm with me and to dare to allow the mystery to be just that, a mystery. I have taken a small painting that was more controlled and then re did it (Tom Thomson style) on a larger canvas.
Lately I’ve been following this guy on you tube and I must say, I love what he has to talk about. He verbalizes a lot of what I already am feeling. It’s good to hear that someone else is feeling it, that I’m not alone in the desert of my thoughts. It’s tough to be an artist- you have this little voice in your head that says, “don’t do it” “it looks stupid” “no one will ever buy your stuff”. All I can say is WRONG or paraphrasing the fish guy in Star Wars: “It’s a Trap.” Cause it is a trap. People do buy my stuff. But I must do my work for the love of creation, and that is all. As long as I can create I will do it. Who knows where this journey will take me? It’s hard to tell.
When I was in grade 2 I decided I wanted to be an artist. I was a new kid in a new school, and my cousin Peter showed me how to draw the road runner. When it was art time, I drew a road runner, and all the kids wanted me to draw the road runner for them. This started the storm.
Storms are not bad, storms test us, they measure our courage, they can even kill us. Ok, sometimes storms are bad, but regardless, we can’t be afraid to go there, or we will live a life wasted.
Well here I am working from home again and it feels scary. I have two commissions to do, one is a stormy scene and the other is a cafe on a boat. Neither want a kraken put into the picture. Too bad, I kind of like krackens they are cool mythical beasts that come out of the depths and crush things.
I guess fear could be a kraken. Right now, I’m dealing with momentary fear as I write this, so I’m trying to write it out so I can just move on and finish painting the side of Siren, and then open up my new canvas and start working on something else.
I also have to rake the leaves and get rid of two large bags of trash. That’s on my “to do list” for today.
I cut my fingers badly on a glass, It was one of my favourite glasses too, one with a skull etched in. The glass was soapy and it slipped from my hand and next thing I knew two slashes appeared on my left hand. Memo to self: don’t wash dishes before morning coffee.
I am working on inserting a woman riding a stag into my next landscape. The Stag is a sacred symbol in wicca, it’s a representative of the horned god who rules winter. I figure it will be the next instalment of my series of mystical landscapes. And part of my body of work that I need to accomplish.
I will make the stag white, because the Celts considered the stag messengers from the otherworld, and again the woman in the painting will be my red haired friend who lives on in my art.
Winter is slowly descending now, it’s definitely cooler, though I still feel comfortable in my office. I am finishing off my Samhain, but I think I will call it Siren of Samhain because that’s more appropriate. Considering there is a hidden siren in the work, or perhaps not so hidden. I wanted to illustrate the feeling of being underwater, of just coming out of the water.
There was a photographer’s display of art at Kit’s wake, in the art centre on the island, It showed women submerged in water. I think it inspired many of us. Sometimes when I connect with the dead it feels like I am swimming in murky water, and that creates fear because you never know what you will bump into when you are diving deep down into the depths of the unknown.
A work that someone else did, I won’t mention names also was inspired by this influence. He was a friend of Kit’s as well, and I saw how bereft he was. Ever notice the face that people make when they think no one is looking? Their true nature comes out in a flash, and then it’s gone again. I saw pure sorrow there in his eyes, and all I wanted to do was to comfort him. However, his painting was astounding, it depicted a woman submerged in deep water swimming to the surface. The water was burnt umber, which is how I see it in my head…the land of the dead.
Sketch of a woman riding a stag
The crossroads is a funny place. A magical place, a place of choices. We always have to choose, even no choice is a conscience choice.
I drew Elegba at the crossroads. In Santeria, Elegba guards the crossroads of life, he kind of helps you out, or not. He could trick you, and even confuse you more.
I am working out what this means.
The door behind Elegba is the door which leads us to a new place, but Elegba is the keeper of the key.
I once had a vivid dream about a far off door in a dark room, I was flying towards it, in my dream but each time I’d hit it, I’d bounce back into darkness. Behind the door, was light.
This was around the time that I could sense things: That good or bad was coming and I would dream about ghosts. I thought I was crazy, but I have found out that all mediums walk the fine line of crazy and not,because we can hold our breath and dive into that strange world that is not our own.