Gillian's Art Blog

2012-02-03T12:15:00.000-08:00

There are days when it is so simple to be kind, so simple to love well and to be gentle. These days are akin to summer, all sweet, soft and slow-moving. They are the sweet scent of golden grasses and salty, dune-protected beaches. These days are sun-bleached and tanned. They are popsicle days with screened-in porches and long, lazy dinners with friends.

Thank you for these days.

-Gillian Cornwall, c 25 January 2012

Time

2012-01-23T12:06:00.000-08:00

Parts. Pieces. Breath. One by one, we count it all off subconsciously. Where is it we believe we are going? Here I am. Here I am, trying to get with the present, trying not to wish the bus would get going so I can get to work and get to work so I can get through the day and get home again. Stupid. Daft. Pushing through life like it's one big, crowded shopping mall.

I become engrossed in the colours and texture of the coat on the woman in front of me. The pattern takes me to a simpler time, a time where comfort was found in time itself, in the time it took to do things, in the "manual" of it all. I remember the clear-bodied coloured pen and the clear cogs of the Spirograph, the straight pins and paper - the potential. I loved this, the act of it as much as the complicated final drawing. It all amazed me. How did someone figure this out?

Cartoon colours were vivid and the characters were simple and bold in design. They were huge and hilarious in personality - from the meep meep of the roadrunner to the misguided antics of Yogi Bear searching out his pic-i-nic baskets with his anxious and steadfast pal, Boo-Boo.

Breathe. Stop. Rest here in this moment.

Connected

2012-01-11T07:22:00.000-08:00

The wonder and greatness of all that is, all that can be imagined and beyond flows through me. I find wonder in all things and beauty in the most simple. I am in awe. Life and love abound and in the giving I am made full. Nothing is held within so there is no loss. Life is eternal in the light of freedom.

What shall I choose next on my path, each footfall a fresh breath and a re-connection to the changing universe? I am engaged in the chaos, autonomous yet connected. What is external is internal, each cell a microcosm of the greatness of everything. There is peace here amid the knock and grind of the human engine. I purr with life.

-Gillian Cornwall, c31May2011

Vancouver 2010

2012-01-04T22:55:00.000-08:00

"I walked through the city as though you were with me, anticipating you picking me up at the ferry in just two days. I was bursting with excitement and love. I photographed Vancouver with these feelings in my heart. This is just one of the ways you light my candle." -Gillian Cornwall

Ink Drawings and a Pencil Drawing 1990s

2012-01-01T23:49:00.000-08:00

Salt Spring Calves - Gillian Cornwall, c1994

Print - Ink on Paper

A Fallen Brick Home - Near Saxe Point, Victoria

Gillian Cornwall, c1998

Original - Ink on Paper

A Fallen Brick Home 2 - Near Saxe Point, Victoria

Gillian Cornwall, c1998

Original - Ink on Paper

A Manhole Cover

Gillian Cornwall, c1998

Original - Ink on Paper

Autumn Leaves

Gillian Cornwall, c1996

Original - Pencil and Graphite on Paper

>> Please note: Clicking on images will allow you to see them in a larger format. You will likely need to click the back button afterward to return to this page. I hope you enjoy my drawings.

Happy New Year to all of you.<<

2011-12-30T11:22:00.000-08:00

Aspen Branches, Utah

Gillian Cornwall

ink on paper

c2009

A Poem

2011-12-30T11:16:00.000-08:00

I have expanded with love

Burst forth from the cement of the city sidewalk

the rogue flower

I learn and I shift

my perception

I engage in the moment that is

and leave the moment that will be

to its own devices

I have no animosity in my heart

no blame

I have expanded with love

I learn

I do my best

I share the gift of love

worship the living temple of my self

Love is a story of the world

in which

we all belong

-Gillian Cornwall

Seek to enjoy, not to possess. -Nana Veary

2011-12-30T11:04:00.000-08:00

My Online Heroes

2011-12-27T10:38:00.000-08:00

This year I have been met with such great warmth and kindness from those of you that I have never met in person. I have built phenomenal relationships through social networking. Some of you have warmed my heart through your openness - expressing your fears and joys and kindness - restoring my faith in the human spirit.
Is it true that this kind of emotional intimacy is, at times, easier with strangers? Is the risk less and thus the willingness increased? I don't suppose it matters in the long run.
My own ego tells me that it is, in part, down to my own openness of heart and spirit, that I create a space that is safe to join and to share your truth.
This Christmas, as the year winds down, I want to ensure that all of you know that I am grateful to you for joining me in the moments we share online and that I see you, I hear you and what you say means something to me. I will do my best to honour your time and effort with my own truth and kindness.
I wish each of you every joy and blessing for the coming year and that you have every opportunity to live fully in the precious moments of your lives.
So very sincerely,
-Gillian

Camp - Part Three

2011-12-22T22:19:00.000-08:00

I know where I am drawn. There is peace in this as I walk on. It feels further in the dark than in the light, fewer distractions I suppose, but before long the woods open up to the upper level seating of the council ring and a lone star shoots across the open sky through the thick lick of the milky way. I sit, shoving my fists into the pouch of my hoodie and I sigh heavily into the night. I am a child, an animal with senses sharp and alive, nose to the cool air, eyes darting and adjusting to the light.

In this ring, some eternal part of who I am, something I have yet to comprehend, releases and I know I have not come here to be alone as I originally thought. I have come to connect to something, to connect to everything, to belong. My young, taut, clean body breathes in the power of the love of all. I hold this cool night air in my lungs, eyes closed, connected; full. As I release this breathe, my self mingled with the universal soul into the one. I open my eyes wide to see the mother wolf staring at me from across the ring. Her two cubs are in tow, wrestling each other and the mother sits, our eyes locked. I gasp. I stay. I feel the hot tears on my cheeks. I understand the journey from longing to belonging. Purity. Comprehension. Love.

Gillian Cornwall, copyright December 22, 2011

New Story "Camp" - Part Deux

2011-12-20T23:04:00.000-08:00

I make my way down the chip trail and across the bridge as the stream below gurgles its greetings, the water on its ceaseless path to bigger bodies. Ahead, the entrance to the cedar wood looms dark and wide and I shiver a little in this moon and star-filled summer night, briefly considering the consequences if caught mid-adventure by a concerned grown-up. My consideration does not outweigh my desire and I carry on down the path and into my beloved cedar wood. While my heart thumps time to this song of escape, it is more excitement than fear as I have walked the trails of this camp and lingered in these woods since age four. I have crunched through the crisp-top winter snows and lazed at the foot of these trees in the dog days of summer. I am comfortable here and more safe on these grounds at any time of day than I ever have been or ever will be at home. I walk here at peace and rest here in the palm of my maker, my nature.

The scent of living cedar is my mother's milk and the branches sway in a trance with the whisper of the night time breeze. I tread upon the bouncing carpet of cedar fronds and the net of roots beneath my feet. This is a place of magic. This is a place of rope swings and tree forts. It is Peter Pan and Captain Hook and everything wild and good about being a kid. I maintain a ninja silence knowing the boys tribes, including my own brother, sleep in the tree forts overhead. I smile at my courage and, quite frankly, my gall; I will not stop here. I know where I must go.

-Gillian Cornwall, copyright December 19, 2011

New Creative Non-Fiction - "Camp" by Gillian Cornwall

2011-12-19T22:01:00.000-08:00

Here is a taste from a new story in the works:
"There is a particular scent to the canvas tent with its pine platform floor, replete with eight 9 year old girls, the counsellor-in-training, Cathy, and our revered leader, Liz. After three years of these overnights, I can quite confidently say that, while the scent is unique to these circumstances, it varies little from camp session to camp session and from year to year and tent to tent. I can not fully describe it but I will try to lead you by the nose and give you some idea because it's beautiful and peculiar and, for me, both inviting and petrifying. If one were to mix brown sugar with sweet summer sweat, dry pine and sun-warmed canvas and blend it with stale peanut butter and jam sandwiches from lunches gone by, you'd have a reasonable facsimile of what I'm trying to get at.

I already know I like girls. I lay among them and I barely understand how it is I am an interloper in their midst. I have no idea how it is I am different or why I am the only one who feels like this. I am the only one awake though thousands of crickets and frogs trill beyond our fabric home. They call me, incessant as the sirens of Greek mythology. One more call, this time from the loon, and I silently slide from my sleeping bag placed purposefully by the zippered net door flap. My stealthy exit goes unnoticed or without comment as it is not uncommon for a young girl to require a night time trip to the outhouse; however, this is not my planned destination. I am equipped in my Keds, sweatpants, and hooded sweatshirt having planned my adventure earlier in the evening. I am restless and intense and night time sojourns both feed my sense of adventure and calm my troubled young soul."

-Gillian Cornwall, copyright December 18, 2011

You

2011-12-14T09:30:00.000-08:00

The stars in the sky would stand aside for you
with fascination and adoration.
This is how you light up a room.

Cowichan Winter Forest

2011-12-09T19:20:00.001-08:00

Cowichan Winter Forest

Ink and coloured pencil

Gillian Cornwall

From the Deep Blue Sea

2011-12-05T22:28:00.000-08:00

Where from come I?

From a deep, dark place

Where from come I?

From the silt of the deep blue sea

Flowing and forming

and spanked to the shore

to open a mouth

and fill the lungs

with air I feed this life

with feet I fled the sea

with fire I made the food

for the ceaseless belly

Upon the earth I dwell

From mother to mother to mother

all-a-one

-Gillian Cornwall,

Buy Art?

2011-12-01T16:23:00.000-08:00

Oil Pastel on Paper.
- Gillian Cornwall
$1000
Click on the pic to see it big.
c 2005
22"x30"

Address to my Students - UNI 201 Spoken Word Event

2011-11-29T22:37:00.001-08:00

What an incredible journey it has been. We, as a group, have defined education as a holistic process, not merely the relaying of information from one to others.

In our Spoken Word class, we combined the use of our minds, bodies and spirits to address the very basis of our ability and right to human interaction.

As a result of our interconnection, our dreams and desires, our trust, and our capacity to examine and share our fears, we created an environment in which we were ultimately able to access our truth and our capacity to learn and teach each other from a place where fear has not held us at bay.

This fluidity is perfection. Learning, like love, is about openness; it is about sharing information and thought. You are gaining a mastery in this and it is a rarity in contemporary education.

Your desire and willingness are a much greater measure of success than a letter or percentage grade.

Knowledge and learning are shared gifts and for this I thank you.

I will take this opportunity to address a question we examined in class: "Why write?"

-if for no other reason than to share the story of your beautiful life, to take the reader or listener by the hand and walk them through the sights, sounds, smells, tastes and touches of your real or imaginary worlds. For through a multiplicity of perspectives, so shall we know ourselves better.

I look forward to the many journeys we will take through your hearts and minds this evening. Love and blessings to all.

-Gillian Cornwall, November 15, 2011

Autumn on the Island

2011-11-26T10:00:00.000-08:00

"I let myself go into the passing landscape as the Greyhound races over the Malahat. Raindrops tear across the window pane and the forest blurs a golden green red rust perfection. From this warm, dry seat I traverse this wilderness of fog and mystery in relative coach comfort.

I place myself in these woods, down paths over spongy undergrowth and through a thousand stories waiting patiently for my arrival, each one held in the gem drops of moisture on the tips of the fragrant pine needles. I can smell the tales and taste them in this silty, salty, coastal soil. I am here and here again and at once with the past and future colliding in the big bang of the present.

There are fireplaces and books and peaceful moments with your head in my lap as I read you the story you have always wanted to hear, the one you never knew existed but it has always been right here in our shared cellular structure, in this peaceful place of perfection.

It is autumn, my love. You can rest easy here with a lullaby of golden leaves dancing down from these ancient trees."

-Gillian Cornwall, October 22, 2011.

Walking the Path Inside and Out

2011-11-22T22:00:00.000-08:00

What transpires in our hearts as we traverse our life paths all intertwined, running parallel and doubling back? Our motions as open thermodynamic units, mirroring the minutia of our own atoms and molecules, we careen through chaotic space and time where everything is happening all at once.

Brave and crazy, we remain in motion, all in a million directions, each with a different map, yet, all with the same destination. Through the traps and blockades of fear we march on, heading towards pure love.

- Gillian Cornwall, 21May 2011

Some Photos by Gillian Cornwall

2011-11-20T11:40:00.000-08:00

Vancouver Trees

Vancouver Fog

Victorian Sunset

Downtown Victoria

My Radio Interview with CFUV in Victoria, BC

2011-11-17T19:22:00.000-08:00

Have a listen while I tell you my story, "The Kid", read a piece on writing and have a chat with Lynne Super of CFUV.

Let me know what you think.

Thanks,

Gillian

Wendy Welch - Cell Ruminations

2011-11-17T11:31:00.000-08:00

Please check out these beautiful new works by: Wendy Welch, Executive Director of The Vancouver Island School of Art.

Fluidity

2011-11-13T11:48:00.000-08:00

"The wonder and greatness of all that is, all that can be imagined and beyond flows through me. I find wonder in all things and beauty in the most simple. I am in awe. Life and love abound and in the giving I am made full. Nothing is held within so there is no loss. Life is eternal in the light of freedom. What shall I choose next on my path, each footfall a fresh breath and a re-connection to the changing universe? I am engaged in the chaos, autonomous, yet completely connected. What is external is internal, each cell a microcosm of the greatness of everything. There is peace here amid the knock and grind of the human engine. I purr with life."

- Gillian Cornwall, 31May2011

The River Witch

2011-11-10T09:15:00.000-08:00

Where do I live
if not in your woods?
I burrow nose deep
in dead leaves and silt soil
by the river's edge

Your crows
march wicked sentinel steps
They blow my cover
pluck my eyes
drag me blind
to your lair

Feral friend
I am the interloper
in your land, in you deep
Your ash tree a marker
for my soiled soul spot
In the forest deep
I sleep

-Gillian Cornwall
Copyright 2009

Salt Spring Island in September

2011-10-02T22:21:00.000-07:00

The mill - Crofton, Vancouver Island, BC

The bridge of the ferry

View from the ferry - Vesuvius, Salt Spring Island to Crofton, Vancouver Island

Fishing on the lake - from St. Mary's Lake Resort

St. Mary's Lake - the view from the dock

A lovely old roadside zucchini cart

I love the attrition of an old wooden building.

A little bit of history along Beddis Rd., SSI

The beach

Arbutus at Beddis Beach, Salt Spring Island

All images Copyright by Gillian Cornwall c 2011

The Big Sky

2011-08-02T10:04:00.001-07:00

The last light of day touches my heart

I am in everything and everything is in me

From Here to Forever

Softness

Intensity

The Enterprise?

All images are the property of Gillian Cornwall - c2011

Quamichan Lake

2011-02-21T20:44:00.001-08:00

Ink and Watercolour Pencil
4" X 6"
Quamichan Lake, Duncan
by Gillian Cornwall
Copyright 2011

New Drawing - Summit Park Garry Oaks

2011-01-17T19:52:00.000-08:00

Garry Oaks in Summit Park - Victoria BC
India ink and EB pencil on paper
by Gillian Cornwall
Copyright 2011

Mike Carroll Gallery - Lanai Hawaii

2010-11-04T12:09:00.000-07:00

To view some beautiful oil paintings filled with the Aloha spirit, have a look at the Mike Carroll Gallery on Lanai, Hawaii.
Aloha

Light of Morning

2010-01-09T10:49:00.000-08:00

Ah, restorative light of morning!
The promise of opportunity
and an elixir to the fears of nights gone by.
You, chance for peace, love and joy -
I give my thanks to you.

A Retrospective - some of my art from the 80s to the present

2009-12-15T11:25:00.000-08:00

Media range is oil pastel on paper, watercolour pencil on paper, pencil on paper and ink on paper.
Enjoy,
Gillian.

A Couple of Seascapes by Gillian

2009-12-07T11:30:00.000-08:00

Shark Cove and Pu'upehe
Lana'i, Hawaii
By Gillian Cornwall
Watercolour Pencil on Paper
4" x 6"
Copyright 2000

Hawaii
by Gillian Cornwall
Oil Pastel on Paper
9"x12"
Copyright 1988

Portrait of Parker by Gillian Cornwall

2009-11-29T21:53:00.000-08:00

Portrait in pencil on paper
by Gillian Cornwall
October 2009
8" x 10"

Dawn 'Til Dusk Jewellery

2009-11-26T16:15:00.000-08:00

Check out
this great new
local jewellery:
Dawn 'Til Dusk

Artist Statement for Circuitous Routes: Excess/Abundance

2009-11-25T23:42:00.000-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Gzbutz3AVA
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s88vX51wB0w&feature=related

Please enjoy this video of Wendy Welch's artist statement at Open Space Gallery in Victoria, BC

Tradewinds and the Aloha Dancers from July09

2009-11-07T10:04:00.000-08:00

Tradewinds
and
The Aloha Dancers
with Special Guest Dancer - Tulawe from Fiji
July 2009
Cameron Bandshell
Beacon Hill Park
Victoria BC

Click on images to enlarge

Tulawe

For more information about Tradewinds and the Aloha Dancers, see their website.

Circuitous Routes: Excess/Abundance - This Friday at Open Space Gallery

2009-11-03T20:34:00.000-08:00

Circuitous Routes: Excess/Abundance

Friday, November 6, 2009 7:00 pm

Opening reception is on Friday, November 6, 8:00pm

Artist Talk at 7:00pm

Circuitous Routes: Excess/Abundance

Runs from November 6 through December 12, 2009.

Open Space Gallery

The work of Gerhard Richter

2009-10-28T13:22:00.000-07:00

Gerhard Richter
delightful, insightful, and one heck of a painter.

A portrait of Sarah B. by Gillian Cornwall

2009-10-18T12:10:00.000-07:00

Image approximately 8"x10"

pencil on paper
Copyright 2009

Wendy Welch Show at Open Space

2009-10-14T12:01:00.000-07:00

Circuitous Routes: Excess/Abundance

Friday, November 6, 2009

This content is directly from the Open Space web site.

Opening reception is on Friday, November 6 at 7:00pm.

Circuitous Routes: Excess/Abundance runs from November 6 through December 12, 2009.

Victoria artist Wendy Welch is fascinated by contemporary desire, and the tangible evidence left in its wake. Circuitous Routes: Excess/Abundance will feature six new works that originate in Welch’s commitment to drawing and installation. She honours the everyday materials that come into her life—whether the gifts of materials from her students, or found objects or the various envelopes and print materials that cross her desk.

An inveterate collector and recycler of objects, Welch examines the impulse to collect, to store and to amass material goods, both as an individual and as a contributor to a wider consumer culture. Welch gives unexpected form to the accumulated residue of consumerism by transforming ephemera into a monumental study of abundance, identifying exactly where abundance tips into excess. Welch describes the installation as a “three-dimensional scribble,” a deliberately non-functional, provisional, structured and chaotic milieu, in which visitors might consider materiality, process, accumulation and, indirectly, landscape.

Wendy Welch studied visual art at the University of Victoria (MFA), California State University in Los Angeles and Concordia University, Montreal (BFA). Her work has been presented at the Southern Alberta Art Gallery, The Art Gallery of Greater Victoria and the Richmond Art Gallery among other galleries and artist-run centres. In addition to her visual art practice, Welch is an art writer, curator and educator. She is the Founder and Director of the Vancouver Island School of Art.

www.wendywelch.com

A taste of Autumn in West Saanich

2009-10-04T10:44:00.000-07:00

Some pics of the produce

Thanks to Sarah B for the loan of the camera
and the drive to the country.

home

2009-10-03T16:03:00.000-07:00

Not a day goes by

when I don't hear you
call me home.

Animal

2009-09-15T22:02:00.000-07:00

Windblown shelters
the scent of living cedar
I am my animal
senses alive
choking on human intelligence
begging instinct to push
through my skin as fur
to warm me

Gillian Cornwall, 1993

The Fog

2009-09-13T23:01:00.000-07:00

A fog has descended over the town that is my brain.
Strangers move silently through the haze
bumping one another with ignorance and a taste of vehemence.

A raging parade masked by the static
thick in the throats of the anonymous crowd.

Fedoras pulled down
Collars turned up
Heads bent
and shoulders hunched

Not a glance exchanged
No introductions made
No gentle touches
Nor aspirations shared

Contemporary Delight

2009-09-11T12:57:00.000-07:00

Wendy Welch is my favourite contemporary artist. I won't talk about it here but please take a look at her website.

Wild Things Gone Tame

2009-09-08T21:50:00.001-07:00

I sure know that I am unlikely to gain many friends with this post but I hope that it inspires some thought and some alternate perspectives.

The domestication of animals is the issue at hand. I want folks to consider the likelihood that the domestication of any and all species only benefits the human. From farm animals to pets, this is the score: Humans = advantage; animals = 0

The domestication of animals for consumption has a somewhat obvious history with humans desire for an easy food source but the keeping of animals as pets is only about human whim and desire for control over other creatures. Why do we take certain animals into our living space and let them sleep where we sleep, eat what and where we eat and then get upset at them when their instincts show and they scratch the furniture, meow, bark or mark their territory?

Animals made into pets from wild things lacked choice. This was a selfish act on the part of humanity. We are the only animal that seeks to control other animals and then anthropomorphize them. We are proud of ourselves for saving a kitten or puppy that may have been euthanized but they are only in that position as a result of our domestication of their species. Wild animals have little or no need of us.

We humans are ungainly and selfish creatures who lack instinct and the ability to function in our environment. Take a moment to picture the earth without the human animal.

It's astounding, isn't it?

I call for people to consider stopping the further domestication of all species. What if we set a date by which we would no longer breed animals for our use and further consider the amount of space we take up on this earth? Let's make a space for the freedom of our fellow creatures.

If you want meat, hunt it.

If you want comfort, look to yourselves and to each other.

Peace.

Rule.

2009-08-28T20:01:00.001-07:00

My atoms are banging together like grocery carts in a big box store
and I've reached a point in my paradigm
where I'll pass up your piss and vinegar
for a good conversation and a bottle of pinot grigio

"I'm old", I say
in that "You don't know me!"
piss tank kinda way

Like magnets: same-same
we push away in this game
with a faked out pout
turn about and an
"I wanna spend my life with you!"

Rule.
"Be yourself", you said
so I've been looking in the tool shed
behind the rusted barbeque
and the lawn darts.
It's a start.
Pretty sure I'm in there, somewhere.

Hoavy Road - Vancouver Island

2009-06-24T23:14:00.000-07:00

Something happens on this island
Some kind of alchemy
Skies turn to silver
And light is as much in me as around me
I am this land, this sky
And this sea
As much in me
As around me

Dear Crow God,

2009-06-10T21:06:00.000-07:00

Dear Crow God,

I humbly request that you ask your disciples to stop flying at my head. My hair is not nesting material and what the hell would I want with a crow baby. Rest assured, very few humans, as twisted and cruel as we can be, have use for a crow baby.

My understanding is that your kind are not even good eating; hence, the expression "eating crow" which is, of course, an English language idiom meaning humiliation by admitting wrongness or having been proven wrong after taking a strong position. Eating crow is presumably "foul" (excuse the pun - Fowl) tasting in the same way being proven wrong may be emotionally hard to swallow (thanks again Wikipedia).

To return to my original request, please inform your troops that, while I am renowned for my good nature and sense of humour, there is nothing sporting nor dignified about running down the street willy-nilly, waving my arms in the air, looking and, quite frankly, feeling terrified at the prospect of having my eyes plucked out.

I wish you the very best with all of your other crow endeavours, not the least of which is your attraction to, and collection of, bright and shiny objects, of which I do not consider myself one.

You also appear to have quite an affinity for playing "chicken' in traffic.

Oh - and the black outfits - very tasteful!

Most sincerely,

Gillian Cornwall
Homosapien

Ink Drawing - Long Beach Rainforest

2009-06-10T21:02:00.001-07:00

Art Bits

2009-06-10T20:44:00.000-07:00

Two oil pastels/mineral oil on watercolour paper
Scenes from Hawaii

Happy 85th Birthday Mum!

2009-05-05T11:40:00.000-07:00

Eunice Jay
Born May 5, 1924
Died 1982

Wish I had the chance to know you when I was an adult. I love this photo of you.
Today, I honour your life.

The Truth

2009-04-28T14:15:00.000-07:00

I didn't swim with dolphins
Nobody actually swims with dolphins
We're not that good at it
I was floating about 40 feet away
They swam to me
It was terrifying really

Nine mammalian torpedoes spinning and soaring towards me
All smiles
They're always smiling
Makes it difficult to tell if they're angry

I'm an uninvited guest in their living room after all
Floating around
Ungainly as an elephant in a tutu
Limbs all spread and flailing

"Most intelligent; friendly appearance; seemingly playful"
Wikipedia says so
And I'm sure I look to them like
"A fish out of water?"
A drowning alien

One swims immediately below me
On its back
Checking me out
It feels good to be checked out
Even by this slick and smiley torpedo

And I wonder what these creatures would think
If they could peer into our living rooms
They might be terrified too
But I don't think they would be impressed

In mythology, be it Greek or Hindu,
Humans are often found riding the dolphin

In dolphin mythology
Humans are wanton, graceless dullards
And, often, objects of ridicule

The Phoenix

2009-04-17T10:46:00.000-07:00

Sometimes
your greatest strength
rises from the ashes
of your vulnerability

Rain and Blossoms

2009-04-12T09:36:00.000-07:00

A billion tiny kisses plastered to the ground.

Licks and kisses pink on green,
the green grass of a west coast spring

A promise kept to us every year
through the grey wet winter

blossom blizzard
we call to the east and say
"yes, it's snowing here too!
...blossoms."

a billion pink wet kisses for the earth mother
this is love too.

Love and molecules

2009-03-21T09:33:00.000-07:00

Imagine, my mom was driving a motorcycle around England in 1944. She was 20 then. She had a boyfriend who was a Spitfire pilot. They used to read poetry to each other at Harrow on the Hill by Byron's tomb. They were in love. My mom was in the ATS at Biggin Hill fighter station where her boyfriend, Rick, was posted. They lived fast and true to their hearts. There was no time to waste by not feeling, blocking and worrying if it was right. Life was so tenuous - up for the lottery every moment as planes fell from the sky, bombs fell from the sky and buildings crumbled around people daily. The world was at war and nothing was forever. There was only the moment in which the truth existed.
Rick was shot down. Killed.

In 1948, my mother married my father. They had four kids, moved to Canada from England twice, started their own business, and divorced in 1975. My mother continued to work to support the two children she still had at home. She created a new career for herself and kept my brother and I in school, in good clothes, with enough food to eat and the occassional vacation and special treat. She did well by us although she was sad - she had lost a part of her self in the process of all this.

At 58 years old, she died of ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease); robbed of her retirement and her chance to go to Europe and explore the arts of the countries she had spoken of so passionately over the years.

Her wish was to have her ashes taken to Byron's tomb to be spread in the place where she remembered her passion, her love and her truth. This was done. I hope that my mom and Rick's molecules are dancing together still.

The Tear by Lord Byron

When Friendship or Love our sympathies move,
When Truth, in a glance, should appear,
The lips may beguile with a dimple or smile,
But the test of affection's a Tear:

Too oft is a smile but the hypocrite's wile,
To mask detestation, or fear;
Give me the soft sigh, whilst the soultelling eye
Is dimm'd, for a time, with a Tear:

Mild Charity's glow, to us mortals below,
Shows the soul from barbarity clear;
Compassion will melt, where this virtue is felt,
And its dew is diffused in a Tear:

The man, doom'd to sail with the blast of the gale,
Through billows Atlantic to steer,
As he bends o'er the wave which may soon be his grave,
The green sparkles bright with a Tear;

The Soldier braves death for a fanciful wreath
In Glory's romantic career;
But he raises the foe when in battle laid low,
And bathes every wound with a Tear.

If, with high-bounding pride he return to his bride!
Renouncing the gore-crimson'd spear;
All his toils are repaid when, embracing the maid,
From her eyelid he kisses the Tear.

Sweet scene of my youth! seat of Friendship and Truth,
Where Love chas'd each fast-fleeting year
Loth to leave thee, I mourn'd, for a last look I turn'd,
But thy spire was scarce seen through a Tear:

Though my vows I can pour, to my Mary no more,
My Mary, to Love once so dear,
In the shade of her bow'r I remember the hour,
She rewarded those vows with a Tear.

By another possest, may she live ever blest!
Her name still my heart must revere:
With a sigh I resign what I once thought was mine,
And forgive her deceit with a Tear.

Ye friends of my heart, ere from you I depart,
This hope to my breast is most near:
If again we shall meet in this rural retreat,
May we meet, as we part, with a Tear.

When my soul wings her flight to the regions of night,
And my corse shall recline on its bier;
As ye pass by the tomb where my ashes consume,
Oh! moisten their dust with a Tear.

May no marble bestow the splendour of woe
Which the children of vanity rear;
No fiction of fame shall blazon my name.
All I ask – all I wish – is a Tear.

October 26 1806

Live, love, be brave.

Choice

2009-02-01T19:09:00.000-08:00

Choice: as independent and as uncontrollable as breath. ...and what happens when we hold our breath?

Well, eventually, our body takes over and forces us to breathe.

Choice: as true as instinct, naming life force through action.

Create your world through your life force.

Art and Home

2009-01-13T11:11:00.000-08:00

Imagine you live on the street. Where is your venue for self expression? Do you care or is that so far off your radar because you are cold, hungry, afraid, sick, addicted and desperate to simply survive another day?

I don't have the answer. I'm not even certain about the relevance of my questions! Some people are without society's concept of home because they want to be. Some people on the street have homes and can't go to them because they are not safe.

I do know that many people not living within the construct of walls and roof are simply not seen by those of us who do live within these constructs. Living outside the normal boundaries of society's dream can come with the price of not being seen. You are outside the realm of others vision of acceptability. If you are not seen, do you question your place in the world? Do you drift outside of yourself or do you drift inward? I imagine it is as individual as each being.

I do know that, for myself, I can examine my interconnection with the "all" through self-expression. For me, this is sometimes facilitated in the form of visual art.
So, I'm thinking about the possibility of getting some local art supply stores to donate sketchbooks and other art supplies to the shelters and folks on the street. I think it is a fairly simple way to facilitate a form of self expression. I would love to gather drawings from the street and create a show for the whole community that may start a dialogue - perhaps create a conduit for our brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers who are suffering from invisibility to reconnect to that sense of being part of the "whole". A picture truly is worth a thousand words and art can transcend borders.
Let me know what you think.

Back In the Game

2009-01-12T09:03:00.000-08:00

Plumerias on LanaiPumpkin-Fest 08 - Saanich Peninsula

Hello All,

After a sabbatical of a certain stretch of time, I have returned with more access to technology and a recovered spirit. There is a great deal of information I am hoping to put forth here in the next few months and hope that I will re-establish contact with some of my previous readers. In the meantime, enjoy the visuals.

august in victoria

2007-08-07T07:09:00.000-07:00

It's a grey day in Victoria

It's August

I feel strange

Here is a flower for my friends

and I have not a word to say...

HANG IT UP!!!!!

2007-07-05T23:31:00.000-07:00

That's it! I've had it.

There is no way other than this to say it:
Talking on cell phones while driving is stupid and dangerous.

We have been hit twice in six months by people who were not paying attention while driving - aka - talking on the phone. This is completely unacceptable.

These people are not being punished for operating a machine that weighs over a ton doing anywhere upwards of 100 kmh and talking on a phone. Think about how stupid that is.
Particularly since they are doing it on a road that is crammed with a whole lot of other stupid people doing the same thing.

Cell phone use in cars has now been prohibited in two provinces - Quebec and NFLD. I hope that we can get British Columbia to follow suit before too many more people are hurt or killed.

I was hurt, lost a position at my workplace, have suffered both mental and physical trauma, have injuries that may never fully heal and undergone huge expense. Why? So someone could phone someone else and say, " Hi, What are you doin'?"

PLEASE, PUT DOWN YOUR STUPID PHONE AND JUST PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR DRIVING!

Almost summer

2007-06-18T21:33:00.000-07:00

Okay, I know it's snowing in some places of the world but this is Victoria, n'est pas? It's almost summer and it is chilly. This is supposed to be Canada's Hawaii! Where are the gentle breezes wafting with scents of warm jasmine and the swish of the palms while I sip a cold drink on the rooftop patio?

Pleeeaase! Let summer come soon...

Victoria Day Parade Pictures

2007-05-23T15:55:00.001-07:00

Parade Pics

2007-05-22T18:57:00.000-07:00

I know, you can hardly contain yourself - fear not - parade pictures will be coming as soon as I have time to take them off the camera and load them up. Try to hold on - I know not when I will get to it. I can feel your anxiety and excitement from here ...really I can.

Victoria Day Parade

2007-05-21T07:08:00.000-07:00

Today the city will be alive with the sound of marching bands as the Victoria Day Parade gets underway. A peculiar phenomenon as most of the bands are from America (United States of...). Odd that they come here to celebrate the birthday of this queen - odd we celebrate it, when it comes right down to it. Let's just make like we are celebrating the City of Victoria....yeah, that's the ticket!

Anyway, one of my peculiar pastimes is taking contemporary pop songs and setting them to a marching band tune. Try it - it's most unnervingly addictive - or not...

Try a classic pop tune to start with, perhaps "It Ain't Me, Babe" by Bob Dylan or something by U2 and go from there.

Enough about that. If I get some pictures of the parade today, I will post later.

More Spring Photos in Victoria

2007-05-20T09:18:00.001-07:00

Peacock in the Park

2007-05-19T10:33:00.000-07:00

Peacock In Beacon Hill Park

Flower of Springtime

2007-05-19T10:30:00.000-07:00

Happy Spring!

2007-05-19T10:28:00.000-07:00

Your Birthdate:

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

Me and my brother Phil - I was around 3 yrs old...

2007-01-04T12:08:00.000-08:00

Launch!

2007-01-04T11:55:00.000-08:00

It's a new year and a new way of approaching life - I listen to the voice of Hawaii and echo the Aloha spirit.
I welcome you, here and now, to this breath in your life.
Remember, everyday is an opportunity to re-invent yourself.
With best wishes to all of you for peace, love, and laughter.
A hui hou.
Kila Nalu
(Gillian)

Nancy Adler's Pictures of Me on Lana'i

2006-12-21T11:00:00.000-08:00

It was the best! - HAWAII 06

2006-12-04T22:21:00.000-08:00

The Last Hours in Waikiki - It's hard to leave...

All Hawaii - All the Time!

2006-12-04T21:52:00.000-08:00

Aloha from Gumby & Pokey
Back in the cold
On my balcony - Victoria - B.C.

This is what I came back to... - Victoria - BC

My buddy Greg - Kuhio Beach - Waikiki - Oahu

I think - Portuguese Man o' War
Shipwreck Beach - Lana'i

Yep, that's me - Shipwreck Beach
Lana'i

Last Day on Lana'i at Shipwreck
with Bev
So much Aloha to you my sweet friend!

Perfect Day at Hulopoe - This is where I camped
Lana'i

Bird of Paradise - Lana'i

The Grounds at the Four Seasons Koele Lodge - Lana'i

Four Season's Manele Bay Resort - Lana'i
(Had a dinner and a lunch here - Deeelux!)

HAWAII! HAWAII! HAWAII!

2006-12-04T21:38:00.000-08:00

Cool

Gumby and Pokey working on their tans - Hulopoe Beach - Lana'i

Pu'upehe - (Sweetheart Rock) - Lana'i

Shark Cove, Lana'i

Inside my B&B - Lana'i - oooh, 4 poster bed!

My B&B - Lana'i

ALOHA Part Two!

2006-12-04T21:07:00.000-08:00

The view from:
Brown's Beach House - Fairmont Orchid - Big Island

Gumby and Pokey by Shay's Pool - Kamuela - Big Island
I think Pokey is drunk...

Big Island Buddha

Turtle on the beach at Puako - Big Island

Gumby and Pokey chillin' at Mauna Kea
...Pokey is still drunk

Hulopoe Beach - Lana'i

The view from Shay's lanai - Kamuela - Big Island

ALOHA Part One! - Malama Pono

2006-12-04T20:23:00.000-08:00

Gumby and Pokey on the Big Island
...waiting on the train?

King Kamehameha I - Birthplace
Big Island

Ginger - Big Island

North Coast - Big Island

Me and my dear friend Shay - you rock Shay!

Back home on Lana'i - camped on my beach
but dined at 5 star resort
Best of both worlds!

Jade Flowers at Shay's place in Kamuela - Big Island

Parker Ranch land - Waimea - Big Island

One of the amazing trees at Shay's - Big Island

Hibiscus - Diamond Head - Oahu

Yellow Hibiscus - Hawaii's state flower

Somebody's house! - Diamond Head - Oahu

My buddy Ryan's hotel balcony in Waikiki

Outrigger - Waikiki Beach - Oahu

The view form the corner of Kalakaua and Kapahulu
...near my hotel - Waikiki - Oahu

Long Time - No Blog

2006-10-01T19:07:00.000-07:00

Sooke, B.C.

Breathe - because it feels good.
There is little anyone else can do for you in this regard.
Plant your own garden and fill yourself with sun and rain.
This will proctect you from reckless marauders.
Be open and fluid.
Like the river or the wind,
FLOW.

Excerpt from "Lighthousekeeping" Jeanette Winterson

2006-06-23T08:29:00.000-07:00

Lighthousekeeping | extract
Chapter 1 - Two Atlantics

My mother called me Silver. I was born part precious metal part pirate.

I have no father. There's nothing unusual about that - even children who do have fathers are often surprised to see them. My own father came out of the sea and went back that way. He was crew on a fishing boat that harboured with us one night when the waves were crashing like dark glass.
His splintered hull shored him for long enough to drop anchor inside my mother.

-Jeanette Winterson

No Pictures this month...

2006-06-16T12:25:00.000-07:00

Hi there,
No pictures will be posted this month as the camera I usually use is in Italy with my girlfriend ...which makes sense because it is her camera.....
HOWEVER
I will continue to post and this month make an effort to put up word pictures (a.k.a. stories, poems, quotations)
Right now, I would like to recommend you read Jeanette Winterson's "Lighthousekeeping".
I had a really hard time not calling it " Light Housekeeping" for some reason.
It is somewhat about looking after lighthouses but not really. If you have ever read Jeanette Winterson you'd know that already.
Anyway, I think it's an absolutely "top drawer" read.
Ms. Winterson never ceases to astound me. If you read that and like it, I further recommend "The Passion" and "Art and Lies".
Later skater,
Gillian

Are Love and / or Loss Cumulative?

2006-06-14T12:14:00.000-07:00

A simple question without a simple answer?
I certainly don't know.
Do our hearts manage to flush past love and past loss as our kidneys flush more tangible toxins (no, I don't think love is a toxin, love is great and loss, well, loss is just a fact of life)
OR
do love and loss accumulate in our lives, one always trying to outweigh or balance the other?
Are love and loss symbiotic?
Those are all the huge questions of the universe I can muster for now...
Feel free to comment....
All enlightenment accepted.

this is where i live

2006-05-15T19:14:00.000-07:00

where do you live?

you could see yourself here

what do you dream of now?

are you at home in your heart?

is your heart at home here?

mine is

i love the space, the water, the blue,
and the green

water and motion - ocean

2006-04-04T20:51:00.000-07:00

Water
This is where I belong

The Evening Stretches from Day into Night

2006-04-04T20:44:00.000-07:00

here and now

peace

Beauty

2006-03-19T21:07:00.000-08:00

More Point No Point Resort

2006-03-19T21:00:00.000-08:00

Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

Point No Point Resort - Vancouver Island

2006-03-19T19:39:00.000-08:00

When you're weary
Feeling small
When tears are in your eyes
I will dry them all

Creativity

2006-03-19T07:27:00.000-08:00

Time - my latest search for ways in which I can be creative. My current paid work requiring 10 to 11 hours per day, Monday to Friday, and usually parts of Saturday and/or Sunday (not today though), I have sadly reflected on earlier times when I could sit down for at least an hour or two of drawing during the week. Knowing that without creativity in my life, I go a "little" nuts, I have decided to look at it a bit differently and determine what in this day of mine is requiring creativity? - how to hold a sandwich while continuing to work at the computer? -sharpening four pencils at one time to reduce the time away from my calculations? ...No, not so much.
I do believe, however, that there is an art to making decisions, an art to how you impart information to people, an art to how you request assistance, and an art to how you choreograph your day , the people in your life, and how you move through it all. There can be an effort for grace and dignity which, at times, does not come naturally.
Communication and the way of day to day life can be art if you choose to make it so. I am choosing to try. I have always spouted that art is alive and vital - now it's my chance to live my words.
On the lighter side, I'm hoping to have a couple of lovely images to share here later today so stay posted!
Aloha.

Nothing To See? - Look Closer

2006-01-16T12:51:00.000-08:00

I remember when I first moved to Victoria, B.C. from Salt Spring Island. By compare, Victoria seemed so vibrant and busy with so much to see and do. There were live music shows, art shows, and a ridiculous number of festivals throughout theSpring, Summer and Autumn seasons - festivals celebrating everything from lavendar, to jazz, to lanterns, to Beer.
As time passed, and I made several jaunts over to Vancouver (bright lights, big city), my view of Victoria became jaded and I developed the unseemly mantra,
"There's never anything to do here!"
Recently I have rediscovered the many little wonders of this town. For a city of it's size, Victoria really does have activities a-plenty and, although no time soon will it match the culinary and arts offerings of Vancouver, why should it?! It's NOT Vancouver. We came here to separate ourselves from the hustle and bustle of the big towns and have a "little city" life. We came here so we would have a place to park. We came here because it rains less than Vancouver. We came here because we like it!
Right now, in our fair city, we have quite a hot ticket which I plan to check out this week sometime: Linda McCartney's photos at the Royal B.C. Museum.
Enjoy,
Ciao.

What did your parents get for Christmas?

2005-12-20T12:19:00.000-08:00

Dear world,
Okay, this has little to nothing to do with art but, what the heck, be generous with me:
So much to think about, so little time to post - and no computer of my own from which to post - boo-hoo! The closest thing I have to a laptop is a vintage etch-a-sketch. They work so much better than the new ones.
BUT
I digress.....
Back to the title of this missive to the populus.
Did you ever ask your parents what kind of stuff they got for Christmas. I'm guessing it was simpler fare than that on the letters to Santa in this day and age:
Today: an Apple (not the fruit, the laptop)
Yesterday: an orange (yeah, just the fruit)
I guess what I'm thinking is: if you asked your folks what their hopes and dreams were around the holidays, they wouldn't have expected what kids do today - and yeah, I know, they also used to hike 10 miles to school and back in a blizzard backwards with no shoes while carrying their younger siblings...
...and had to chip the ice off their slates to take their notes in class.
Before you laugh the folks off and snuggle into your electric-heated house with your laptop and/or your ipod and your full belly and yawn with the boredom of it all,
take a moment.
Remember that it wasn't always this easy - even in your own family - and that it still isn't easy at all for the majority of the world's population.
Be grateful for what you have and maybe consider asking for something really simple for Christmas
OR really think about how far that orange came that you're eating and who picked it.
Use your imagination. Be thoughtful. Interact with someone ...without a keyboard - you know, face to face, on the street.
Draw someone a Christmas card and tell them your life would be less rich without them.
Play a game.
Use your imagination.
of course - DRAW!
I'm going outside....
Happy holidays and a huge hug to all the people that made sure I was still standing after the hard, hard year gone by.
Love to you all!
G.

Just for the Joy

2005-12-02T11:21:00.000-08:00

Well, Gumby gets around - that's for sure.

He and Pokey have been with me to Salt Lake City to study the Mormon phenomenon.
They've travelled with me to Hawaii and all over British Columbia.
Next year, I expect to photograph them in Europe.
It's a quirky hobby but it makes people smile.

"I Wish I Had a River..."

2005-12-01T09:41:00.000-08:00

Those of you familiar with Joni Mitchell's music or art or both will likely reocgnize the title of this post. It's one of my favourite songs by her. In listening to the song, you are given to feel the bite of winter, both in its icy solitude and in its hope for warmth and comfort. Myself, I move closer to the holidays with both a sense of excitement and trepidation. Such a delightful time of twinkly fairy lights and warm, cozy scenes set against a juxtaposition of madcap overspending and commercialization. It seems with every passing year I tell myself, "I will not buy in, I will not buy in!" ....but I do. I wish I could move the earth for the people I love if that's what they need and want but the fact is, my friends, all I have to offer you during the festive season is the same thing that's coming at you every other day of the year: My love for you, my support, and my wish that we all can create peace and joy for ourselves and our fellow planetary inhabitants. I wish you gentleness and thought for others and yourselves and I offer my self to you to the best of my ability. I also wish that in 2006, everyone tries to create something from their soul without worrying that it isn't good enough.
Peace,
Gillian

Everyone Can Draw

2005-11-09T18:33:00.000-08:00

I can't even begin to count the number of times I have heard the phrase"I can't draw!" I would like to remark that I have never heard this from a child. At what point does the switch flip in our heads that makes us believe that the instant we try something new, it needs to be perfect. Why is it that so many adults are afraid to do something new, to be on the brink of discovery, and ready to make "mistakes" along the road.

When I was teaching drawing, I would always hear "but I can't even draw a straight line!"
Why do you think we have rulers? A straight line is not a very interesting line - all it speaks is"I have a ruler" or "I can behave as a ruler" ...yawn.
So stretch yourself, be alone if you have to, draw a wobbly line. Look at it. Open your imagination. What have you started? Perhaps you are looking at the edge of a distant forest in that line. Perhaps it is as fine as the grain in an old oak table. It is potential. It is a starting point. It is the wandering of your mind.

Of course, with any art, work and study improves our skill. There are many elements to consider with each fresh sheet of paper: colour, line quality, use of media, negative space, composition. I'll stop there.
So grown-ups, I hate to break it to you but "can't" just don't cut it. You may want to rephrase:
"I don't want to draw."
"I'm afraid someone will laugh at me if I try" (so, do it anyway)
"I don't want to put the time in to learn something new."
Rest assured, if you want to, you can, and it could bring you so much satisfaction. Remember how it feels to do something just for you - something that relaxes you, gives you a break from the work-a-day monotony, brings you a little joy.

Take a class if you want or just sit down with a piece of paper and a pencil.
Of course, at first, everybody wants to draw something and reproduce that something exactly as they see it. You can get there when you learn to see. It takes time. It takes practice but you can get there. The really great thing is, once you learn to draw one thing and grasp the basic skills that it took to draw that one thing, it won't be too long before you can draw anything. After that you can bend the rules if you want - play with it. I recommend "playing" all along the way. You'll learn more and it will be more fun. Play with your materials. Play with your imagination. Don't be afraid to crumple up your page and start again. Keep your work and look back at it. Look for change. Experiment. Be a scientist. It doesn't matter if you "mess up". Do it again. Whatever you created, you can do again - maybe different, maybe better.

Do it for you. It will change your perspective. You will find that you see things differently. You will simply see more. The imagination is a gift, the drawing is a desire, the brilliance of it is practice and skill.

Have fun.

Autumn Pictures

2005-10-22T17:55:00.000-07:00

I don't enjoy cold weather but I do enjoy Autumn for all the beauty and bounty and watching the kids get so geared up for Halloween. Boo! Have fun! Enjoy the pics!

The Usual Suspects at the Market
Chicken Jail
Crazy Gourds

Autumn Sumach in
Saanich

The House at
Oldfield Orchards

PumpkinFest
at LeCoteau Farm

LOCAL FARE

2005-10-17T15:52:00.000-07:00

I have added a link at the side of the page for any locals from Victoria, Vancouver Island to explore. It's a private contemporary art school here in town with some very good instructors and very interesting courses outside of the normal fare. Please check the site and see if anything interests you!

HOLIDAY

2005-10-10T13:25:00.000-07:00

The seasons have changed. The verdant greens indicative of summer on Vancouver Island have been replaced by Autumn's paintbox of colours. The trees by the road, the forests on the rolling hills in the distance and the ground itself deny the chill in the air with their warm yellows, oranges, and reds. The winds often rise and send the fallen leaves in a frenzy. I watch them scramble as if word of disaster has spread and then they wait again on the ground for the next rumour. This is a time to go outside, rain or shine, and to walk through the woods in your favourite, cozy sweater. This is a time to go out with your favourite tools for creating art - from your sketchbook and pencils to your easel and paints. It doesn't matter what you use, just go and record this beautiful time of change and send me some comments to tell me what you found. Happy Thanksgiving and thanks for reading.

From the ferry in the Strait of Georgia

This is a flower from Chris's garden in Vancouver
(still blooming in October)

New Pictures From the Gardens at the University of Victoria

2005-09-13T18:42:00.000-07:00

Art and Madness

2005-09-07T19:36:00.000-07:00

Art and madness, need they go hand in hand for greatness to exist?

Is this the question we should be asking? Is it in fact madness or is it just a vision from a different perspective?

Naturally, most people would say Vincent Van Gogh was nuts. I do not know that I would concur. I never met him. Certainly, he had behaviours that would have most of us institutionalized, even in today's society.

I often wonder if one must experience great pain in order to experience and visually articulate great beauty or bliss. Vincent, in his letters to his brother, Theo, expressed his many frustrations with society, the way of the world, and with the art community; nonetheless, he learned and progressed. As a painter, he learned to articulate volumes in the application of one stroke of ink or paint. Can a person be "crazy" yet able to capture the truth of so much through his work?

Perhaps I will offer that Vincent did everything right. He left us with a collection of some of the most wonderful paintings and drawings of the last half of the nineteenth century. If he were a different man in any regard, he would not have left us with this incomparable legacy.

If I were Vincent's friend, I would say, "Vincent, I'm concerned with your well-being. What would make you happy?" I wonder what his answer would be and if he did get what would have made him happy would his work have changed - would it have lost the singular thing that makes it great? I sure wish I knew. It does make me think of who I am and how my work is made and what forms of nature within and without me bring about my work.

Perhaps I could be a happier person, perhaps I could be more "normal" and perhaps I would not have created the works I feel have merit. I think we can only take our learned skills as artists, meld them with our natural talent and desire, and add the experience and genetics that make up who we are and then, create art. Work from who you are (your truth). Work from what you know. LEARN. I hope I will find success in this and I hope that any madness in me is just enough to render me brilliant.

Thank you, Vincent, for all you have taught me.

"GOOD ART"

2005-08-28T18:35:00.000-07:00

"Good Art" - Here is a phrase as contentious a subject as religion or politics.
Neophytes who rant about art, having never studied it, are a source of frustration to me. Visual art, as any subject, requires extensive study to be understood and, as with any major field, it has so many branches and types that one could never 'finish' learning.
To have a base knowledge of visual art, one must study at least some of the history, gain a comprehension of the elements of design, learn a variety of media and techniques, gain a base understanding of science, physics, geometry and mathematics, and, most importantly, one must learn to take the time to see. One must view art as it exists everywhere naturally and as it is when manufactured through a unique human viewpoint.
Please remember, next time you are in front of a piece of art, contemporary or otherwise, while you may find it visually appealing or repulsive, you may benefit from learning what led to the creation of the piece before you are able to pass intelligent judgement on its validity as an art object.

Summer Images

2005-08-25T21:41:00.000-07:00

This is a shot from my old home - Salt Spring Island, B.C.

The island is a cross between hippy and yuppie culture.
Some call it Hollywood North as many Americans from the film industry have decided to call Salt Spring home.

I took this on the way back to Victoria from Salt Spring - Jesus rays and all!