"The Soul Exists for It's Own Joy"

acrylic on canvas, museum wrap, 24" x 30"

The idea for this painting came from a concrete wall on the expressway. As I was driving into town, I happened to look up at the wall leading out of the underpass. There growing in this beautiful tracery were the bare arms of a climbing vine. The light was just right and it turned the concrete into a canvas. Across its hard unforgiving surface were the long searching arms and fingers of this plant. It's spareness moved me with it's power and poignancy.

There wasn't a wren on the vine when I saw it, but the more I thought about the bare vine and what it meant to me, the more I knew there would be something else on the canvas. A nest or few leaves seemed trite and forced. But as always, as soon as I had entered the painting concept into my art journal, I was already being drawn to poems and quotes to go with it. There is always a back story of some sort.

As I worked on the painting, my inner questioning began. WHY is it so bare? There has to be something else there. Even though the image is about sparseness, I felt it was a backdrop for a more essential concept.
The quote that kept running through my mind and I kept thinking about as I painted the skeletal vine, was
"the soul exists for it's own joy." That was how I remembered the original line from Rumi that goes "the soul is here for it's own joy." I knew that would be the title, but I also knew there was a missing piece that would convey it.

Then, rather suddenly, I realized it would be a wren. In the bird world, the wren has a unique reputation. They are little birds with big personalities. They build their nests in all sorts of odd places--hanging baskets, baseball gloves, mailboxes, old shoes. Their home sites are very imaginative. Once they stake their claim, they take charge. They run off all interlopers with righteous indignation. Their diminutive size is no indicator of their song. It is loud and varied and constant. Their whole bodies swell up like a puff fish when they are singing. They are absolutely, completely confident of their place in the universe.

I believe the inevitable truth is that our souls do exist for their joy. We are here on this earth to live as fully from that nest as we possibly can...even when the world around us may seem as bare as a vine clinging to a concrete wall. We come into this life knowing that is our purpose, but so easily forget in the onslaught of living. There are so many long armed vines. But even when they are not leafed out, when the concrete is the coldest and the vine the most bare, a wren may alight and open it's mouth to sing. And suddenly, we remember.

"Being Here is So Much"

acrylic on canvas, framed, image is 48"x60"

"Oh, not because happiness exists,

that too-hasty profit snatched from approaching loss.

But because truly being here is so much; because everything here

apparently needs us, this fleeting world, which is some strange way

keeps calling us. Us, the most fleeting of all."

Rilke, Ninth Duino Elegie

These are crows. My painting was inspired by a visit to the Seattle Art Museum where I came upon a gigantic screen standing all alone in a quiet, carefully lit room. It was Japanese, from the Edo period, circa 1650. The screen itself was massive. The sheer size of it gave it presence. But it wasn't the size that made the impression on me, it was the enormous energy of the subject matter. The screen was nothing but beautiful black crows in all sorts of postures against a luminous golden background. It made the entire room feel like a holy place. It was beautiful beyond words.

On reflection it doesn't really matter what kind of birds they are, although the crow has many symbolic connotations. What moves me is the mass of them--the visceral pulse created by so many wings. The air vibrates with the lift they create, the affect of which for a moment makes me feel I could lift off with them. I want to so much and for one magical breath I almost believe I can. Then, a startle, the moment flashes past and they, those marvelous creatures, heave upward as one and are off!--without me.

In case you are wondering, there are 40 of them...and yes, like us, they are each different.

"Two Solitudes"

acrylic on canvas, framed, image is 30" x 40"

I am an avid birder. My love affair began over 30 years ago with a pair of pileated woodpeckers in my back yard. It was love at first sight. There is something so ugly-beautiful about them. They seem reminiscent of a much older, wilder time in the natural world. Watching them all these years, I have come to see them as my own personal totem. I've had amazing encounters with them--especially the pileated, so when I see them I have learned to pay attention. The birds have come to represent for me, the emotional delicacy needed to achieve balance not only in our outward male/female relationships, but also with the equally powerful, inner male and female. The health of the inner one predicating the health of the outer. It is not lost on me that the symbolic meaning of woodpeckers is about finding the power of our own rhythms and flight in the world, signifying that the foundation is there to support us when we do. They also represent secrecy and the inner world from their habit of nesting deep in the interiors of trees.

When we are uniquely ourselves, being who we are, doing what we do, we create a solitude that is enriching and nourishing. This richness of person we can then invite someone else to enjoy. When they do and we enjoy them back, we create between us, a rich beautiful place of balance. It isn't always easy, sometimes it is impossible. But when it happens it expands our understanding of what love is meant to be.

"Just Gulls"

acrylic on canvas, museum wrap, 30" x 40"

Gulls are much maligned creatures. I have always rather liked them for the very characteristics that give them such a bad reputation. They are bossy, aggressive, loud, raucous. They have 'attitude'. Sure, they do chase down all the other shorebirds in an attempt to steal whatever morsel they have found to eat. Bad manners all around. But all that aside, I like them. There is something about their shifty little eyes and suspicious natures that I find comical and amusing. Gulls are garrulous busy bodies. They are always interested in what is going on around them and are happiest if they are right in the middle of other people's business, whatever that may be. They will eat and steal practically anything that resembles food. Easily offended, they react the way the neighborhood battle ax does when she feels she has been insulted: they huff and puff around and strut or fly off complaining loudly. They make me smile. Just like the neighborhood gossip, every one's business is there own. We all know the type.

I also think there is a melancholy streak to gulls. Even though they do congregate in flocks, it is not uncommon to see them all alone floating out in the sea or standing quietly on the shoreline surveying the length of the beach.There is something arresting about that to me. Their solitary habit can be very moving, especially on cold grey days when the beach is bare of birds except for the lone gull waddling around quietly or silently staring out to sea. It would be easy to imagine they are thinking about how no one likes them very much. "Oh, it's just gulls", we say.

In the avian world gulls are very valuable, for they function in much the way crows do inland. They are highly observant, quick to sound the alarm and brave. Like the crows, they serve as sentries for all the other smaller birds close by. That's not to say they wouldn't eat the eggs or babies of those birds given the chance, but at least the other birds can rely on them to sound the alarm if any other predator comes close. Life as we know has a certain amount of trade offs. What also strikes me thinking about all of this, is how certain things in life get labeled as less than acceptable: occupations, school backgrounds, family connections, where a person lives or the kind of car they drive. Who gets to make those lists? I always feel there is a certain amount of scale balancing when the power goes out, or the plumbing backs up or the garbage collectors go on strike. It's more than a gentle reminder sometimes about how important, what we consider 'just gulls' are after all.

"Grace"

acrylic on canvas, museum wrap, 48" x 48"

I carried this image around in me for a long time before I painted it. I had seen a dove's nest in a palm outside the porch of a beach house our family stayed in one summer. The female was so still when we were near. I could not get over the enormous power she exuded asshe sat on her eggs and watched our every move.

I think it was the silent watchfulness that stirred me and the way the male would simply swoop into the nest from out of nowhere. The flash of wings, the hovering urgency so close to the nest stayed with me for a long time. The doves reminded me of how grace often enters our life--in a sudden unexpected burst or in te quiet brooding of our inner lives--both providing an opportunity to deepen and transform who we are.

"Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
world broods with warm breast and
with ah! bright wings."
Gerard Manley Hopkins

"August Crows"

acrylic on paper, framed, image is 5 1/2" x 5 1/2"

Crows are remarkable creatures and are found all over the world. Only recently scientists have documented them using tools to obtain food, which of course, rocketed them right up next to us in intelligence on the food chain. I doubt that came as a surprise to most farmers. Native Americans have honored them for centuries, understanding their innate intelligence and wisdom. They represent sacred law, as opposed to human law, and are considered an omen of change. Ancient Chiefs believed Crow has the ability to see past, present and future at the same time, as well as light and darkness and inner and outer reality. The American Crow is a powerful Eastern symbol along with the Crane. Did you know it was also in the running along with the Bald Eagle for our national symbol? Wouldn't the question "What difference would having the Crow as a national symbol made in our history and culture? make for great conversation over after dinner port?

As with all birds, for me the most wonderful moment is when they gather which is what I was capturing in this little piece. I find great beauty in their whirling descent, in the sound of their wings and their raucous calling to each other. Huge avian flocks are lost to us now, but the crow remains one of those birds that still congregates in large numbers at the end of the day to return to the same roosting spot. They are also one of the few birds who have extended family. Those birds that do not mate, stay connected to their parents and help care and feed for the next brood.....pass the port.

American Oystercatchers

acrylic on canvas, framed, image is 30" x 40"

This painting is a study in decision. The four birds are all in a different attitude of flight. When I started it I thought they might all be coming in to land, but now I'm not so sure they aren't taking off.

Life is about choice. The older I get the more I respect that every choice we make has merit. There is an exquisite orderliness to life despite the seeming chaos, which is a composite reflection of all the choices we make, every day, all day long. Sometimes I wonder if the most significant decisions occur when we have a desire to lift off or to land. Both can be about change and most of the time we have to fly 'by the seat of our pants' as we decide which to do. Sigh. It's a beautiful, incredible world, isn't it?