Origins

Acrylic on panel, 8×8″

It’s not meant to be a literal portrait of our early (very) distant ancestors, but it’s more like a reminder, a loving tribute to those that preceded us. Swimming in the proverbial primordial soup, many distinct entities coming together specializing and cooperating to make cells. 

Which make us. 

Which makes societies.

Which makes me think that maybe that’s how the world is still supposed to work. Seems like the ancestors maybe knew a thing or two.

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Love Awaits

love-awaitsNot passively, but alive, like a determined weed, growing where we least expect it to thrive. Of course it’s only a weed as long as we reject it. Once we embrace it, we can see that it’s this amazing strong beautiful flower that spreads faster than dandelions on a suburban lawn.

Oh yeah, we reject it because we think we’re not worthy of it, or we think it hurt us before so it’s most likely going to hurt as again, or a thousand other reasons.

Dumb.

Dumb dumb dumb.

Understandable, but really… dumb.

The thing is, love doesn’t actually care about any of that. Because when we get over the dumb, it’ll still be there.

Waiting.

And even if we never get over the dumb, it’ll still be there. Growing in the deep waters of our soul.

Waiting.

You picking up on a pattern here?

This image is from my gallery, Paintings — check it out here when you get a chance: 

If you’re interested in purchasing the original for your collection, shoot me an email to see if it’s still available.

They Come Out at Night

they-come-out-at-nightOf course they do. But like the stars, it’s more that they’re just harder to see in the daytime.

Fairies? Elementals, orbs, spirits, birds with flashlights? Well, probably not that.

Those familiar with them tell how they tend to exhibit disconcertingly intelligent, even playful, behavior too which makes them even more fascinating. Or weird, depending on how you look at it.

Which of course brings us to Shakespeare, who wrote “there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

Solid advice if you ask me. Which of course you didn’t, but so what?

Good ol’ Shakespeare.

This image is from my gallery, Paintings — check it out here when you get a chance: http://fineartamerica.com/featured/they-come-out-at-night-spiritpainter.html

If you’re interested in purchasing the original for your collection, drop me an email to see if it’s still available.

The Love Within

the-love-within

Love, any kind of love. Love of nature, romantic love, love of others, of ideas, of life itself.

Just love.

And although love is an energy, and the very basis of the Universe, love always comes to be known from within.

Love of course has both a cold side and a dark side. And from the place where those two meet, there is growth, there is new life.

This image is from my gallery, Paintings — check it out here when you get a chance. 

If you’re interested in purchasing the original for your collection, drop me an email to see if it’s still available.

White Feather

white-feather

Steely determination. Implacable dignity.

And a refusal to be homogenized, defined or commodified by the forces of a passing moment in history regardless of its seeming might.

True to herself.

Beauty in strength.

Still here.

This image is from my gallery, Paintings — check it out here when you get a chance: 

If you’re interested in purchasing the original for your collection, drop me an email to see if it’s still available.

Watchful

watchful

Just watchful. Relaxed. Alert.

And ready. Definitely ready.

But it may not be what you think. This is a modern man at a 21st century powwow, thoroughly living in the now world, and at the same time standing in oneness with his ancestors.

Who also lived in their now world.

Standing as someone who refuses to be co-opted by the current madness.

Not trendy, though occasionally trending.

Knowing deeply who he is, a two legged creature among the four leggeds, the sky beings, those who fly and those who crawl or swim, the star beings, and the tall ones, those whose lives are measured in millennia, and those whose lives flash like a spark before they’re gone.

Relaxed. Alert.

Alive.

This image is from my new gallery, Paintings — check it out here when you get a chance:  

If you’re interested in purchasing the original for your collection, drop me an email to see if it’s still available.

Night Blooms

night-blooms

So few flowers bloom at night, it’s almost an oxymoron. But some do, and they’re all the more precious because of it.

In many ways, we are now in a time of darkness in our world, perhaps entering an even darker time. There have been others, some much worse, and the cusp we are now on could actually go either way.

The flowers can’t hold back the darkness. But they can bring life and beauty to the darkness. Those who do, do a great service to us all. They remind us to hold on until the dawn.

And there is always a dawn.

This image is from my new gallery, Paintings — check it out here when you get a chance.

If you’re interested in purchasing the original for your collection, drop me an email to see if it’s still available.

As Above So Below

As Above So Below.jpg

The old saying points to our three dimensional world as being a reflection of the greater dimensionless world of spirit. That the rules of spirit are the same as the rules of our physical world.

Well, to a point. But let’s not get all carried away with all this. A reflection is not the thing itself. You can’t shake hands with yourself in the mirror. The reflection only points to a reality greater than itself.

And so we have to be very cautious when we try to apply the rules of — well, let’s call it the spirit world for now, although that word carries a lot of unfortunate hitchhikers with it — to the world we seem to inhabit.

A reflection actually can give us very accurate and very helpful information about our world. Is our hair in place, are we buttoned up straight, and more importantly, is there a car coming up in the next lane that I need to be aware of before I move over?

We’re hinting at very large questions here, way too big to cover in a short blog post. But as you look at the little (8″ x 8″) painting with its clouds that are reflected not quite perfectly, and the grasses and flowers in the foreground — now where did they come from, and what are they reflections of? — let it serve as a reminder of the relationship between the big reality and the reflected planet earth physical human animal reality that is our boots on the ground experience.

No big deal. It’s just fun to ponder big ideas. We don’t have to understand them completely or solve anything.

Yet.

This image is from my new gallery, Paintings — check it out here when you get a chance. 

Cactus Valley

Cactus Valley

Amazing things, cacti. Where a human would die for lack of water, some living things can thrive and grow to enormous sizes.

Some people flourish in one set of circumstances where others are overwhelmed and drown or wither and shrivel up in a situation that isn’t right for them. Take a beautiful saguaro and put it in a rain forest, and you’re not doing it any favors. Same for a lush tropical fern if you put it in the desert.

Thing is, the cactus, being a plant, doesn’t try to force the fern into its own comfort zone. And the fern is just as happy to let the cactus be a cactus. Kind of a nice way to veg out, if you think about it.

All depends what you’re built for, I guess.

This image is from my new gallery, Paintings — check it out here when you get a chance.

Yellow Lake

Yellow Lake

So other than the fact that the colors are interesting, why is the lake yellow anyhow?

Well for one thing, the whole darn scene is alive and following its own agenda rather than ours. You’ve got trees marching over the horizon, clouds hanging in the sky checking it all out, and the yellow lake not reflecting the blue sky like it’s supposed to. Darn uppity lake, anyhow.

So who says things have to behave in ways we’re used to? We humans tend to get awfully confused when things don’t follow a “normal” script. And sometimes they just don’t. Or won’t. So we explain those things away as hallucinations, delusions, dreams, mental illness, fabrications, anything to avoid dealing with the reality that sometimes reality doesn’t behave, well, like reality.

Kids know better, of course.

Messes with our tidy boxed up categorized and domesticated safe little worldviews, though. Unless you’re some kind of mystic or shaman or new age flake or something weird like that, which in itself is quite enough for those of us who aren’t to dismiss it anyway. Or a kid. But hey, what do kids know?

Except sometimes the sky is blue and the lake is yellow, and trees march over the horizon. And little orbs of light start floating around.

Oy.

This is one of my favorite styles to work with — it’s reminiscent of a block print, a look I really like, but it isn’t. The original is acrylic, painted with brushes with a strong graphic look. The paint is protected with a semigloss or satin protective varnish. It’s easy to gently clean with a soft cloth and water, even mild soap if necessary, just don’t scrub. I paint on paper mounted on plywood, so it’s very stable and sturdy. And it’s small (the original is 8” x 8” x 1/2”), so it’s perfect for small spaces.

This image is from my new gallery, Paintings — check it out here when you get a chance.