June Offerings – Part XIX: Something to Delight both Head and Heart on Father’s Day 2016

American Art – Part I of V: Ruth Ava Lyons

In the words of one writer, “ruth ava lyons was born in cleveland, ohio and holds degrees from kent state university and cranbrook academy of art. she is a fulbright fellowship recipient and has taught at several colleges and universities. ruth has received several grants, awards, and residencies and her work can be found in numerous private, corporate, institutional, and museum collections including the metropolitan museum of art, hearst corporation, bank of america, new orleans museum of art, national museum for women In the arts, philip morris headquarters, sas institute, the federal reserve bank and others. ruth is inspired by environments where she can observe. these include the amazing everglades, wetlands, rivers, the congaree, national parks and forests, vieques, cumberland island and more. she uses a vocabulary of images to symbolize her thoughts on the threats to these environments, places of wonder. for ruth, a dominant challenge is to transform thoughts into transcendental metaphors that illuminate the tensions and connections between the internal and external landscape. her paintings are evidence of her personal search to comprehend universal themes of growth, resistance, and adaptation that she sees in nature, and in her own life.”

Below – “the dan”; “kingston”; “sugar hill”; “amazon i”; “arctic shadows”; “amazon ii”; “gyre”; “tianxia”; “wetlands.”









Father’s Day – Part I of V: A Few Comparisons

Mother’s Day began in 1907, and it became a national holiday in 1914. Father’s Day began in 1910, faded into obscurity, and did not become a national holiday until 1972. Americans purchase and send 133 million cards for Mother’s Day, but just 90 million for Father’s Day. Americans spend $1.9 billion for flowers on Mother’s Day; there is no equivalent expenditure or gift on Father’s Day. Finally, surveys show that children spend 40% more on gifts for mothers than for fathers. My conclusion: Fathers are largely an afterthought in our culture, and by implication, fatherhood in the United States is a relatively thankless task.

Below – Me, clad in my traditional Father’s Day of Mourning garb.


“All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.” – Blaise Pascal, French mathematician, physicist, writer, philosopher, and author of “Pensees,” who was born 19 June 1623.

Some quotes from the work of Blaise Pascal:

“Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction.”
“Man is equally incapable of seeing the nothingness from which he emerges and the infinity in which he is engulfed.”
“To make light of philosophy is to be a true philosopher.”
“I would prefer an intelligent hell to a stupid paradise.”
“Truth is so obscure in these times, and falsehood so established, that, unless we love the truth, we cannot know it.”
“People almost invariably arrive at their beliefs not on the basis of proof but on the basis of what they find attractive.”
“Dull minds are never either intuitive or mathematical.”
“Clarity of mind means clarity of passion, too; this is why a great and clear mind loves ardently and sees distinctly what it loves.”
“Can anything be stupider than that a man has the right to kill me because he lives on the other side of a river and his ruler has a quarrel with mine, though I have not quarrelled with him?”

Fancies in Springtime: Alan Watts

“The joy of travel is not nearly so much in getting where one wants to go as in the unsought surprises which occur on the journey.”

Here is the Artist Statement of Costa Rican painter Flora Zeledon: “Through my watercolors I can express in my own language that which I have felt and lived.”







A Poem for Today

By Debra Bruce

Along the cutting board, the afternoon grows
down to a spark, then glows around
these last few things from the garden. Soon,
from the porch step, I can hear the apples fall,
still sharp and green, pounding
in the wind. I wonder
where Bill is. I called
in every room, and the rooms
filled with the emptiest sound
I know. I’ve left the coffee on low.

I see him take the shears down
and wander to the edge of the yard,
run his hands
along the dry hedge, clipping there,
and there. September
on the screened porch. I remember
how we sat this time of year
feeling the cold light come on, before thc boys went,
as it comes now, lengthening the lawn
to our tree where there are two green apples left, one.

Fancies in Springtime: Theodore Roosevelt

“There is a delight in the hardy life of the open.
There are no words that can tell the hidden spirit of the wilderness, that can reveal its mystery, its melancholy and its charm.”

American Art – Part II of V: Ken Cadwallader

Here is one writer describing the artistry of painter Ken Cadwallader: “Cadwallader’s paintings are wonderfully colorful and dynamic representations of the world around us. Inspired by just about everything, Cadwallader paints subjects ranging from landscape to floral to figure with a unique quality, all their own.”






Father’s Day – Part II of V: A Quiz

Question: I have three grown sons. From the time that each of them was a boy until the present day, how often would you guess that they had acceded to my request to mow our lawn – a job that takes, at most, two hours? I don’t mean how many times each of them mowed the lawn, but rather, how many times collectively did the three of them perform on my behalf the domestic chore I dislike more than any other?

I won’t keep you in suspense. The answer is: zero. Not one of the shiftless wretches ever mowed our lawn either while he lived at home or in the time since he set out on his own. Why not? To explain the matter, I will provide a series of dialogues that were repeated constantly with minor variations for well over a decade:

Dad to Oldest Son: “Please mow the lawn.” Oldest Son: “I can’t. I have red hair and fair skin, and so I sunburn easily.” Dad: “Put on a hat and a long-sleeved shirt and get going.” Oldest Son: “Mom – Dad’s making me go out in the sun!”

Dad to Middle Son: “Please mow the lawn.” Middle Son: “I can’t. I have to finish my science project, and you’ve always told me that doing well academically is really important.” Dad: “You can take a short break from your scholarly labors to cut some grass.” Middle Son: “Mom – Dad won’t let me do my homework!”

Dad to Youngest Son: “Please mow the lawn.” Youngest Son: “I can’t. I have hay fever.” Dad: “Then don a gauze mask and get to work.” Youngest Son: “Mom – Dad says that he doesn’t care if my allergies get worse!”

Dad to Self: “What the hell were you thinking?” Self: “Don’t blame me. I told you that the whole marriage and family thing was fraught with peril.” Dad: “Oh, shut up – and go cut the grass.” Self: I can’t.” Dad: “Why not?” Self: “I hate mowing the lawn.”


Nobel Laureates – Part I of II: William Golding

“I am by nature an optimist and by intellectual conviction a pessimist.” – William Golding, English novelist, playwright, poet, author of “Lord of the Flies,” and recipient of the 1983 Nobel Prize in Literature “for his novels which, with the perspicuity of realistic narrative art and the diversity and universality of myth, illuminate the human condition in the world of today,” who died 19 June 1993.

Some quotes from “Lord of the Flies”:

“Fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill! You knew, didn’t you? I’m part of you? Close, close, close! I’m the reason why it’s no go? Why things are what they are?”
“The thing is – fear can’t hurt you any more than a dream.”
“The greatest ideas are the simplest.”
“We did everything adults would do. What went wrong?”
“We’ve got to have rules and obey them. After all, we’re not savages. We’re English, and the English are best at everything.”
“The world, that understandable and lawful world, was slipping away.”
“He found himself understanding the wearisomeness of this life, where every path was an improvisation and a considerable part of one’s waking life was spent watching one’s feet.”
“Towards midnight the rain ceased and the clouds drifted away, so that the sky was scattered once more with the incredible lamps of stars. Then the breeze died too and there was no noise save the drip and tickle of water that ran out of clefts and spilled down, leaf by leaf, to the brown earth of the island. The air was cool, moist, and clear; and presently even the sound of the water was still. The beast lay huddled on the pale beach and the stains spread, inch by inch.

The edge of the lagoon became a streak of phosphorescence which advanced minutely, as the great wave of the tide flowed. The clear water mirrored the clear sky and the angular bright constellations. The line of phosphorescence bulged about the sand grains and little pebbles; it held them each in a dimple of tension, then suddenly accepted them with an inaudible syllable and moved on.

Along the shoreward edge of the shallows the advancing clearness was full of strange, moonbeam-bodied creatures with fiery eyes. Here and there a larger pebble clung to its own air and was covered with a coat of pearls. The tide swelled in over the rain-pitted sand and smoothed everything with a layer of silver. Now it touched the first of the stains that seeped from the broken body and the creatures made a moving patch of light as they gathered at the edge. The water rose further and dressed Simon’s coarse hair with brightness. The line of his cheek silvered and the turn of his shoulder became sculptured marble. The strange, attendant creatures, with their fiery eyes and trailing vapours busied themselves round his head. The body lifted a fraction of an inch from the sand and a bubble of air escaped from the mouth with a wet plop. Then it turned gently in the water.

Somewhere over the darkened curve of the world the sun and moon were pulling; and the film of water on the earth planet was held, bulging slightly on one side while the solid core turned. The great wave of the tide moved further along the island and the water lifted. Softly, surrounded by a fringe of inquisitive bright creatures, itself a silver shape beneath the steadfast constellations, Simon’s dead body moved out towards the open sea.”
“The mask was a thing on it’s own, behind which Jack hid, liberated from shame and self-consciousness.”
“His mind was crowded with memories; memories of the knowledge that had come to them when they closed in on the struggling pig, knowledge that they had outwitted a living thing, imposed their will upon it, taken away its life like a long satisfying drink.”
“His voice rose under the black smoke before the burning wreckage of the island; and infected by that emotion, the other little boys began to shake and sob too. And in the middle of them, with filthy body, matted hair, and unwiped nose, Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of mans heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called Piggy.”

Fancies in Springtime: Abraham Lincoln

“Republicans are for both the man and the dollar, but in case of conflict the man before the dollar.”

(How times and politics have changed!)

Born 19 June 1815 – Cornelius Krieghoff, a Canadian artist famous for his paintings of landscapes and life outdoors.

Below – “The Blacksmith’s Shop”; “The River Road”; “Wyandot Hunter Calling a Moose”; “Lumber Raft on the St. Lawrence”; “The Passing Storm, Saint-Ferreol”; “Self-Portrait.”






Father’s Day – Part III of V: I Would Have Had Ponies – Lots And Lots Of Ponies.

Take a look at the three brutes in the photograph below. If eBay or Craigslist had existed at the time this picture was taken, my fatherly troubles would have been over very quickly. Here is the on-line advertising copy of my dreams: “Dare to buy all three: Get the Mom for free!”

Italian sculptor Francesco Ciusi (1883-1949) attended the Academy of Fine Arts in Florence.


Francesco Ciusa  (1883 – 1949)



Francesco Ciusa  (1883 – 1949)


A Second Poem for Today

“Gulf Coast Blues”
By James Cervantes

The boy kicks gravel in his drive
and up pops a scallop shell. Grave

shadows of cumulus turn it gray,
but in the sun, country-western,

gospel, and violin love music
mix like rusty wire and vanish

like a fuse of laden air.
You can almost see a fish drying,

a woman’s leg drying, the smoke
from a stack and from a barbeque.

Saturday morning’s first beers
sweat in all those right hands

while the left ones power-steer.
You do see the woman’s bare leg

and foot stuck out the window,
so still, and the dune grass

bending over, turning silver,
like some new revolving world.

Fancies in Springtime: Rob Kalin

“Rain makes the night — and us — smaller, softer, more forthright.”

American Art – Part III of V: Robert Bock

In the words of one critic, “Born and raised in Seattle, Robert Bock has always had a keen interest in art. After completing high school he entered the US Navy and served three years during WW II. Following his discharge he pursued his interest in art and ultimately found his way in the advertising world as a designer/illustrator in his own studio, working with many advertising agencies and manufacturers in the Seattle area. Robert did not have formal training in the arts, thus is self-taught in his design and painting techniques. Travel in Europe greatly increased his appreciation of the art world. In 1967 his interest began to focus on painting nostalgic scenes illustrating his travel and telling the stories his discerning eye for beauty revealed. Robert’s flame of desire to paint has not diminished, and he still paints as often as circumstances permit. He has in past years had a number of one-man shows. Now his interest lies in producing and showing prints of his works in order to make them more available.”

Below – “Port Gamble Store”; “Still Used”; “Blue Boat”; “Mt. Rainier”; “Elk on the Hamah Hamah”; “Elbow Room”; “Enumclaw Farm”; “A Foggy Day in Copalis”; “Near Sedona.”









Fancies in Springtime: Wendell Berry

“So, friends, every day do something that won’t compute…Give your approval to all you cannot understand…Ask the questions that have no answers. Put your faith in two inches of humus that will build under the trees every thousand years…Laugh. Be joyful though you have considered all the facts….Practice resurrection.”


Nobel Laureates – Part II of II: Aung San Suu Kyi

“If you’re feeling helpless, help someone.” – Aung San Suu Kyi, Burmese opposition politician, chairwoman of the National League for Democracy, and recipient of both the Sakharov Prize for Freedom (1990) and the Nobel Peace Prize (1991), who was born 19 June 1945.

Some quotes from the work of Aung San Suu Kyi:

“Within a system which denies the existence of basic human rights, fear tends to be the order of the day. Fear of imprisonment, fear of torture, fear of death, fear of losing friends, family, property or means of livelihood, fear of poverty, fear of isolation, fear of failure. A most insidious form of fear is that which masquerades as common sense or even wisdom, condemning as foolish, reckless, insignificant or futile the small, daily acts of courage which help to preserve man’s self-respect and inherent human dignity. It is not easy for a people conditioned by fear under the iron rule of the principle that might is right to free themselves from the enervating miasma of fear. Yet even under the most crushing state machinery courage rises up again and again, for fear is not the natural state of civilized man.”
“In societies where men are truly confident of their own worth, women are not merely tolerated but valued.”
“It is not power that corrupts but fear. Fear of losing power corrupts those who wield it and fear of the scourge of power corrupts those who are subject to it.”
“You should never let your fears prevent you from doing what you know is right.”
“To view the opposition as dangerous is to misunderstand the basic concepts of democracy. To oppress the opposition is to assault the very foundation of democracy.”
“We will surely get to our destination if we join hands.”
“I don’t believe in people just hoping. We work for what we want. I always say that one has no right to hope without endeavor, so we work to try and bring about the situation that is necessary for the country, and we are confident that we will get to the negotiation table at one time or another.”
“Please use your liberty to promote ours.”
“There is a special charm to journeys undertaken before daybreak in hot lands: the air is soft and cool and the coming of dawn reveals a landscape fresh from the night dew.”
“The search for scapegoats is essentially an abnegation of responsibility: it indicates an inability to assess honestly and intelligently the true nature of the problems which lie at the root of social and economic difficulties and a lack of resolve in grappling with them.”
“Saints, it has been said, are the sinners who go on trying. So free men and women are the oppressed who go on trying and who in the process make themselves fit to bear the responsibilities and uphold the disciplines which will maintain a free society.”
“If ideas and beliefs are to be denied validity outside the geographical and cultural bounds of their origin, Buddhism would be confined to north India, Christianity to a narrow tract in the Middle East and Islam to Arabia.”
“The education and empowerment of women throughout the world cannot fail to result in a more caring, tolerant, just and peaceful life for all.”
“Some have questioned the appropriateness of talking about such matters as metta (loving-kindness) and thissa (truth) in the political context. But politics is about people and what we had seen … proved that love and truth can move people more strongly than any form of coercion.”

Fancies in Springtime: Laura Ingalls Wilder

“‘Ma!” she cried. “There is a Santa Claus, isn’t there?’

‘Of course there’s a Santa Claus,’ said Ma.

‘The older you are, the more you know about Santa Claus,’ she said. ‘You are so big now, you know he can’t be just one man, don’t you? You know he is everywhere on Christmas Eve. He is in the Big Woods, and in Indian Territory, and far away in York State, and here. He comes down all the chimneys at the same time. You know that, don’t you?’

‘Yes, Ma,’ said Mary and Laura.

‘Well,’ said Ma. ‘Then you see—‘

‘I guess he is like angels,’ Mary said, slowly. And Laura could see that, just as well as Mary could.

Then Ma told them something else about Santa Claus. He was everywhere, and besides that, he was all the time.

Whenever anyone was unselfish, that was Santa Claus.

Christmas Eve was the time when everybody was unselfish. On that one night, Santa Claus was everywhere, because everybody, all together, stopped being selfish and wanted other people to be happy. And in the morning you saw what that had done.

‘If everybody wanted everybody else to be happy all the time, then would it be Christmas all the time?’ Laura asked, and Ma said, ‘Yes, Laura.’”

Below – An illustration from “Little House on the Prairie.”

Died 19 June 1805 – Louis-Jean-Francois Lagrenee, a French painter.

Below – “The Crown of Flowers”; “Melancholy”; “Echo and Narcissus”; “Penelope Reading a Letter from Odysseus”; “Venus and Nymphs Bathing”; “Self-Portrait.”






Fathers’ Day – Part IV of V: Truth

“You’ll get old. Then your daughters will help take care of you in old age while fathers who have sons will be getting put in retirement homes.” – Clay Travis, an American sportswriter, explaining to a father why he is lucky to have daughters.

Below – Three photographs of the retirement community that my sons have selected for me and into which they intend to move me very soon. It is located somewhere in Ukraine, and all three of them have promised me that the place has several first-rate amenities, including an amusement park and a swimming pool. They also have assured me that I will be able to take long, quiet walks along its nearly empty streets.
Ukraine Chernobyl



American Art – Part IV of V: Graydon Parrish

Here is one writer describing the background of artist Graydon Parrish: “A realist painter living in Austin, Texas. Graydon is both trained in and an exponent of the atelier method which emphasizes classical painting techniques. His parents, collectors of American and European nineteenth-century art, exposed him to painting at a young age and influenced his choice to pursue an academic figurative style.”

Below – “Cycle of Terror and Tragedy, September 11, 2001”; “Young Woman Looking to Her Right (Susanna)”; “Sean”; “Coi Burruss as Sappho”; “Dance”; “Pieta.”






Fancies in Springtime: Socrates

“Be nicer than necessary to everyone you meet. Everyone is fighting some kind of battle.”


“What is freedom of expression? Without the freedom to offend, it ceases to exist.” – Salman Rushdie, Indian-British novelist, essayist, and author of “Midnight’s Children” and “The Satanic Verses,” who was born 19 June 1947.

Some quotes from the work of Salman Rushdie:

“Whenever someone who knows you disappears, you lose one version of yourself. Yourself as you were seen, as you were judged to be. Lover or enemy, mother or friend, those who know us construct us, and their several knowings slant the different facets of our characters like diamond-cutter’s tools. Each such loss is a step leading to the grave, where all versions blend and end.”
“I am the sum total of everything that went before me, of all I have been seen done, of everything done-to-me. I am everyone everything whose being-in-the-world affected was affected by mine. I am anything that happens after I’m gone which would not have happened if I had not come.”
“From the beginning men used God to justify the unjustifiable.”
“When a reader falls in love with a book, it leaves its essence inside him, like radioactive fallout in an arable field, and after that there are certain crops that will no longer grow in him, while other, stranger, more fantastic growths may occasionally be produced.”
“Memory has its own special kind. It selects, eliminates, alters, exaggerates, minimizes, glorifies, and vilifies also; but in the end it creates its own reality, its heterogeneous but usually coherent version of events; and no sane human being ever trusts someone else’s version more than his own.”
“Now I know what a ghost is. Unfinished business, that’s what.”
“What kind of idea are you? Are you the kind that compromises, does deals, accommodates itself to society, aims to find a niche, to survive; or are you the cussed, bloody-minded, ramrod-backed type of damnfool notion that would rather break than sway with the breeze? – The kind that will almost certainly, ninety-nine times out of hundred, be smashed to bits; but, the hundredth time, will change the world.”
“Go for broke. Always try and do too much. Dispense with safety nets. Take a deep breath before you begin talking. Aim for the stars. Keep grinning. Be bloody-minded. Argue with the world. And never forget that writing is as close as we get to keeping a hold on the thousand and one things–childhood, certainties, cities, doubts, dreams, instants, phrases, parents, loves–that go on slipping , like sand, through our fingers.”
“Free societies…are societies in motion, and with motion comes tension, dissent, friction. Free people strike sparks, and those sparks are the best evidence of freedom’s existence.”


Hungarian painter Cene Gal Istvan (born 1969) has an MFA degree from Debrecen University.
Cene gál István

Cene gál István

Cene gál István




Fathers’ Day – Part V of V: Acknowledgement

“This thing of darkness I acknowledge mine.” – Prospero speaking of the brutish and insolent Caliban in “The Tempest,” by William Shakespeare.

Below – Prospero with Caliban; my “things of darkness.”


Fancies in Springtime: Homer

“First she said we were to keep clear of the Sirens, who sit and sing most beautifully in a field of flowers; but she said I might hear them myself so long as no one else did. Therefore, take me and bind me to the crosspiece half way up the mast; bind me as I stand upright, with a bond so fast that I cannot possibly break away, and lash the rope’s ends to the mast itself. If I beg and pray you to set me free, then bind me more tightly still.”

Below – John William Waterhouse: “Ulysses and the Sirens”


“We are made to persist. That’s how we find out who we are.” – Tobias Wolff, American writer and author of “This Boy’s Life” and “In Pharaoh’s Army: Memories of the Lost War” (which won the National Book Award), who was born 19 June 1945.

Some quotes from the work of Tobias Wolff:

“Fearlessness in those without power is maddening to those who have it.”
“Knowing that everything comes to an end is a gift of experience, a consolation gift for knowing that we ourselves are coming to an end. Before we get it we live in a continuous present, and imagine the future as more of that present. Happiness is endless happiness, innocent of its own sure passing. Pain is endless pain.”
“When we are green, still half-created, we believe that our dreams are rights, that the world is disposed to act in our best interests, and that falling and dying are for quitters. We live on the innocent and monstrous assurance that we alone, of all the people ever born, have a special arrangement whereby we will be allowed to stay green forever.”
“You boys know what tropism is, it’s what makes a plant grow toward the light. Everything aspires to the light. You don’t have to chase down a fly to get rid of it – you just darken the room, leave a crack of light in a window, and out he goes. Works every time. We all have that instinct, that aspiration. Science can’t dim that. All science can do is turn out the false lights so the true light can get us home.”
“We even talked like Hemingway characters, though in travesty, as if to deny our discipleship: That is your bed, and it is a good bed, and you must make it and you must make it well. Or: Today is the day of the meatloaf. The meatloaf is swell. It is swell but when it is gone the not-having meatloaf will be tragic and the meatloaf man will not come anymore.”
“The beauty of a fragment is that it still supports the hope of brilliant completeness.”
“When your power comes from others, on approval, you are their slave. Never sacrifice yourselves – never! Whoever urges you to self-sacrifice is worse than a common murderer, who at least cuts your throat himself, without persuading YOU to do it.”
“Reasons always came with a purpose, to give the appearance of a struggle between principle and desire. Principle had power only until you found what you had to have.”
“Why were Jack and his brother digging post holes? A fence there would run parallel to the one that already enclosed the farmyard. The Welches had no animals to keep in or out – a fence there could serve no purpose. Their work was pointless. Years later, while I was waiting for a boat to take me across the river, I watched two Vietnamese women methodically hitting a discarded truck tire with sticks. They did it for a good long while, and were still doing it when I crossed the river. They were part of the dream from which I recognized the Welches, my defeat-dream, my damnation-dream, with its solemn choreography of earnest useless acts.”
“The bullet is already in the brain; it won’t be outrun forever, or charmed to a halt. In the end it will do its work and leave the troubled skull behind, dragging its comet’s tail of memory and hope and
talent and love into the marble hall of commerce.”
“You can’t be selfish. But we men-it’s a wonder we forget ourselves long enough to buy a birthday card. As for love… we can love, but we’re always forgetting.”
“Writers, to my way of thinking, are no more free in their choices than most people. Our material chooses us; certain things engage us, certain things do not.”
“And in my heart I despised the life I led in Seattle. I was sick of it and had no idea how to change it. I thought that in Chinook, away from Taylor and Silver, away from Marian, away from people who had already made up their minds about me, I could be different. I could introduce myself as a scholar-athlete, a boy of dignity and consequence, and without any reason to doubt me people would believe I was that boy, and thus allow me to be that boy. I recognized no obstacle to miraculous change but the incredulity of others. This was an idea that died hard, if it ever really died at all.”
“Had he learned nothing from all those years of teaching Hawthorne? Through story after story he’d led his boys to consider the folly of obsession with purity – its roots sunk deep in pride, flowering condemnation and violence against others and self.”
“I have never been able to understand the complaint that a story is ‘depressing’ because of its subject matter. What depresses me are stories that don’t seem to know these things go on, or hide them in resolute chipperness; ‘witty stories,’ in which every problem is the occasion for a joke; ‘upbeat’ stories that flog you with transcendence. Please. We’re grown ups now.”


Fancies in Springtime: Kenneth Grahame

“When tired at last, he sat on the bank, while the river still chattered on to him, a babbling procession of the best stories in the world, sent from the heart of the earth to be told at last to the insatiable sea.”

Below – An illustration from “The Wind in the Willows.”

Back from the Territory – Art: Jennifer Walden

In the words of one writer, “Jennifer Walden is a successful visual artist living and working in Yellowknife, Northwest Territories. Her distinctive style explores Canadian and Northern life through people, wildlife and topography. She works primarily in acrylics, using vibrant colour, rich texture, dynamic line and three-dimensional relief to create a truly sensual experience. Her work is deeply influenced by the natural and human environment, in particular the geography and culture of her immediate surroundings. Her contemporary expressionistic paintings capture the spirit of place, and often use string and rope blended with various acrylic media to create the deep sculptural relief that is her signature.
Walden’s work has been widely acclaimed across northern and western Canada and has been purchased by collectors from around the world. She has been selected to represent the Northwest Territories at various events including the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver where her work was exhibited to over 215,000 visitors. In 2008 she received the Great Northern Arts Festival “Most Promising Emerging Artist in a 2 Dimensional Media” award and her painting “Herd Migration” was selected by Northwest Tel to grace the cover for the 2009/2010 Northwest Territories telephone book. Walden’s paintings are currently displayed at The Gallery on 47th in Yellowknife, the Copper Moon Gallery in Whitehorse, and the Inuit Gallery of Vancouver.
Walden is a member and former board member of the Aurora Arts Society, the association of artists of the Northwest Territories, and a founding member of the Borderless Arts Movement (B.A.M.), a performance collaboration of visual artists, musicians and traditional storytellers in Yellowknife. An active member of the Yellowknife community, she has preformed, and volunteered, at Yellowknife’s Folk on the Rocks Festival, and coached the Northwest Territories Junior Women’s Hockey Team at the Arctic Winter Games.”

Back from the Territory, I share this with you, before I light out again.

Below – “Frame Lake”; “Muskox Morning”; “Out of Water”; “Raven Sunrise”; “Roll Up the Rim”; “Snaggle Tooth Valley.”






Fancies in Springtime: Emily Carr

“The spirit must be felt so intensely that it has power to call others in passing, for it must pass, not stop in the pictures.”

Below – Emily Carr: “Strait of Juan de Fuca”

American Art – Part V of V: Francis Livingston

In the words of one writer, “francis livingston studied at the rocky mountain school of art in denver before moving to san francisco in 1975 to attend the academy of art. he later taught there for 10 years. influenced by sargent and whistler, livingston painted primarily in a monochromatic style until he began to study the work of the bay area figurative movement, including richard diebenkorn, wayne thiebaud and others. with a love for nostalgia, he paints places which may no longer exist or that have lost their luster. his bold and impressionistic paintings take the viewer back in time to the day when amusement parks with wooden roller coasters, movie theatres with neon signs and buildings with ornate embellishments were in their prime. francis livingston is known for his thickly applied brush strokes that emphasize shape rather than line, creating an abstract approach to realism. his scenes of yesteryear have exciting movement, color, texture and balance.”

Below – “window symphony”; “late day shadows”; “color pieces”; “red railing”; “the dress shop”; santa cruz spinners”; “the boardwalk beyond”; “tower forest.”








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