None of my landscapes are of real places—other than that they must be close by where my shamans live. Call them “unearned memories” that live within me and come to life only when I paint.
"SkyDance" 18"x36" Acrylic on Panel.
"Light In The Valley" 8"X8" Acrylic on panel.
"North Pasture" 20"x16" Acrylic on panel.
"Winter Storm" 16"x16" Acrylic on panel.
"The Long Way Home" 36"x36" Acrylic on canvas.
Summer. A haze of ennui has drifted over you–lazily–unnoticed at first. You head home, but tentatively. There seems no point. All colors are the same, as are all the days and all the nights, the air still and holding no promise. You look at your shoes and wonder whether the feet they hold have somehow found the sudden end of a path you did not know you were on. Then you look up and see magic. The grass is yellow rather than green. And the distant sky–just there beyond that rise–has an intensity you’ve never seen before. Your shoulders turn with your eyes and you take a step. “That way!” cries the voice of the child within. And you take another step, and then another, having decided without thought to fall into that infinite blue, thinking that something mysterious and wonderful could wait for you there, just beyond, if you were to go, for the very first and very last time, the long way home.