Purple Martin

I received a handwritten letter from my brother. It bore a Martin stamp...and I was struck by the quiet, tragic irony of the thing.

Acrylic and Gouache on Canvas and mixed media

28"x31"

trees on a hillside

          12"x12" mixed media on canvas

"Untitled work" 14"x24" acrylic on canvas

"Untitled Green" 12"x12" acrylic on canvas

"Untitled 21" 12"x36" acrylic on canvas

"Untitled" 24"x28" acrylic on canvas

Landscapes early 21st century

More often than not it seems that my impression of what I see, depends on my relation to the object or environment, not just how I see it.

..for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes....

 -e.e. cummings

Celtic calligraphy #9

                         
From time to time I enjoy trying my hand at penmanship with a quill.
The initial "I" is from the Book of Kells. The partial prayer is credited to Saint          
Patrick.....

bone or dragon.....

mixed media on tracing paper 

simple piece #23

                 
                        mixed media on board 5x15

simple piece

                         
                          mixed media on board 5x15

organic patterns

             unintended art. patterns that emerged while burning a pasture.
             the things i could say about the effects of fire, while not always destructive
            simply transformative.

Back in the saddle again

                               

Brushing up on my Celtic manuscript lettering and anamorphic capitals. My penmanship is a bit to be desired, but  I think I am finally getting a feel for it.  I find myself copying down blessings. A William Blake quote that I am fond off is, "The difference between a bad artist and a good one is: the bad artist seems to copy a great deal; the good one really does." I am simply fond of it, not saying it applies to me.

The views of the world a tree has whilst covered in snow.

the transformative properties of snow

...After wind has stopped blowing snow around little wonders emerge. (trimmed bushes, covered in snow)

There is something about the sunset and the effects of the fading light. The way in which my eyes adjust, by slowly resizing the pupil.  The way that I find landmarks by their contrast against the horizon. The way I inadvertently stumble into an object that a moment ago was discernible as ordinary, now in the dusk, takes the guise of the invisible or unfamiliar.
All of this on top of the fact that the constellations are easily visible by 5:30 p.m., and I am still orienting myself to this new anomaly.

Yet in the time. Those few fleeting minutes as the sun slips beyond. The shapes that manifest themselves are eerily extraordinary. The whole world turns into a silhouette world, a monochromatic puppet show, with dazzling backgrounds.  I am fond of this time of day.

Pond Ice

New Year (Celtic Daily Prayer) pg.238

 

This day is a new day

that has never been before.

This year is a new year,

the opening door.

Enter, Lord Christ-

we have joy in your coming.

You have given us life;

and we welcome Your coming.

I turn now to face You,

I lift up my eyes.

Be blessing my face, Lord;

be blessing my eyes.

May all my eyes look on

be blessed and be bright,

my neighbours, my loved ones

be blessed in your sight.

You have given us light

and we welcome Your coming.

Be with us, Lord,

we have joy, we have joy.

This year is a new year,

the opening door.

Be with us, Lord,

we have joy, we have joy.