For art cards and prints of many of these images , please click HERE.
Available Original Art for Purchase
Arranged in alphabetical order (Note: NW = current work from the last several years; EW = early work)
ARPEGGIOS WITH FLOWERS (EW/NW)
36 x 60, acrylic and collaged wallpaper & table napkins on weathered wooden framed canvas $3775 This reworked piece is a dialogue between cultures, the shape of our homes, and the stuff it takes to forgive, to learn, and to remain in the conversation. It reflects my longing for households of love that are wise, enduring and brave. |
At the Take Out (EW)
24x48, acrylic and collaged paper on wood framed canvas $2400 Three beached canoes at the end of an Algonquin excursion with our daughters and some friends. There's something so raw, so humbling and good about paddling through heavy rain, cold and wind. Perspective is offered. Well-being is a gift you do not take for granted. |
Descant (NW)
36x52, triptych - acrylic on 3 canvases (Note: middle canvas is gallery wrap, the two flanking canvases are regular wrap, allowing the central canvas to stand) $3275 "The prefix, des-, meaning 'two' or 'apart' indicates that the descant is a second song apart from the main melody. A counterpart. The art of composing or improvising contrapuntal part music." The title suitably describes the disruption/invitation of these last few years. I've found myself improvising around the melodies I've once believed were complete. Launching into a descant is pure joy to hear, like a thrilling crescendo to a familiar tune, but horrible if not done right. It still much work with the melody. |
Encounters With the Divine (We Are Prodigal) (NW) 40x16, acrylic on wood framed canvas $1700 These eagle/boat paintings are a series that explore the changing nature of my personal faith. The boat suggests one's life journey and can refer to an individual, community or even our society. Engaging with these boats is the eagle, the Mysterious One, God. Here, I consider the word prodigal. Many of us recognize it from the biblical parable of the fellow who ran off early with his inheritance, wasted it and eventually had to return home because there was nothing left. His dad received him back by holding a big party - not at all what anyone was expecting, least of all the son who messed things up. But this word is very beautiful to consider just as it is. Simply meaning lavish, t suggests such an abundance as to be recklessly wasteful. As in, a dessert prodigal with whipped cream so much so that you cannot even eat it all. THIS is the real story. The waste of love, of grace, of mercy. The faith I live in today has transformed into something quite different then before. I don't have the certainty I once held. It has been several years of deep upheaval and examination. The gold line between boat and eagle almost touch. Yes, this is my earning; a magnetic pull toward one another with a thousand prodigal moments in between. |
Encounters With the Divine (We Wrestle) (NW) 30x24, acrylic on canvas $1800 These eagle/boat paintings are a series that explore the changing nature of my personal faith. The boat suggests one's life journey and can refer to an individual, community or even our society. Engaging with these boats is the eagle, the Mysterious One, God. I hesitate to suggest that I wrestle to the extent that i am completely upended as in this image, adrift in disembodied space. It is a completely outrageous situation. No paddle, no water or current to counter razor sharp talons attached to the one who masters the air. I don't know how this encounter will turn out. The boat could very well crash into a thousand sponters after a long descent. But what if it were, instead, a dance in rarified air; a playful exchange of environments? Perhaps the canoe is freed from the constraints of gravity and flow and actually enjoys a version of flight as long as the eagle is near it? i have no idea. |
Fern House On Rocks (NW) 12x10, acrylic and papers on birch panel $300 (currently at www.thelebel.ca) Another study of the house/rocks image. I enjoyed the exuberance of the house, all fern-ish and organic, yet defined by its traditional geometric shape used to communicate 'home". Is it a tiny home, or are the rocks huge boulders. And just how temporary is this structure? Even so, it is happily stationed and seems to be mighty pleased where it landed. |
Glimpses of Blue (NW)
36x12, acrylic on canvas $1080. As is often the case in my studio practice, a painting is generated by something I am ruminating one. This, then, is a process painting. I had no idea where it would lead me. The thing about a painting of this nature is that you have to trust it. The painting leads, not the painter. The nest-like structure at the base was first a boat, a coracle, a nest, a pile of bones, then a nest again. Or perhaps it was a crown of thorns. The lines lead upward, through the sail, to the tiniest blue rectangle situated so close to the top that it might slip right off the canvas. And, it might! This is the precarious nature of hope. It might be out of reach. It could slip right out of our grasp. It asks that we attend to it. In such a process, room is created to think, to remember, to settle into quiet respite despite the lament. It is my way to pray. |
I Carry Words (NW) 24x12, crylic and paper on canvas $795 (currently at www.fernieartsco-op.com ) One of several paintings that riff off of the "What Floats My Boat" piece using the written words of many who contributed to the question, "what gives you hope now, in these times?" |
Incarnation (EW)
36x48, acrylic and gold leaf on wood framed birch panel $3500 Embodiment. To appear in living flesh, fully present. As my imperfect Christian faith evolves, falters and surges, I find myself returning to the incarnation of Jesus. God in human form - this tradition's foundational canon. The calliope hummingbird alights, a momentary jewel, suggesting poetic mystery beyond my grasp. |
In Good Company (EW)
18x24, acrylic on black framed canvas $865 In recent years my family journeyed through the unchartered waters of cancer and death. We don’t journey alone, however, but find ourselves in the company of those who keep us afloat through their expressions of love and kindness. A small, vulnerable vessel buoyed up by the greater story of community. |
In Search of a New Narrative (NW) 36x29, acrylic on unstretched canvas $2150. It seems that so much of what I thought was immoveable, solid and enduring is not so. Institutions like the church, government, education are not beyond interrogation after all. They do not have impunity. We get to review, study, examine, investigate. We get to sift through what we once knew -- in fact, it's important that we do so. Some things are desperately in need of re-imagining. |
Lifeline (EW)
acrylic on 17' Grumman canoe $9000 An installation piece that will create conversation, this painting highlights the delicate yet tenacious nature of enduring relationships and community. Read more about it on the COLLABORATION page. |
Rays (NW)
16x16, acrylic,, collaged table napkins on canvas $640 Currently at www.fernieartsco-op.com I often drive past a little forgotten grove of black willows that once softened the boxy brick exterior of the old hospital in our community. The hospital has long since been torn down with only the telltale foundational rubble to tell the story. These trees give me great delight as I drive by en route to my studio. The ever-insistant westerlies have nudged their trunks to curve around one another. They are beautiful. I paint them with pleasure. |
Spring Prayer (EW)
24x12, acrylic on gallery-wrap canvas $720 There were 5 snowstorms that April. I love winter, but I began wearing a flowered scarf just to remind myself that spring would come, that crocuses were forming under all that snow. On a whim, I tied this scarf between the trees and stood back to enjoy the new view. I stared at it for a long time, a feast of promise and colour in what seemed a perpetually grey world. It offered a metaphor. During darker times, these moments open my thoughts to consider what is beyond my immediate view. |
There, a Tree Grew (NW)
14x11, acrylic and collaged papers on birch panel $385 Currently at www.fernieartsco-op.com There are black willow all over the community where I live. They are fast growing and have this way of twisting at the trunk according to the prevailing winds. The willow holds both the remarkable ability to adjust to its circumstances and to grow in all kinds of soil. I find them heartening. |
The Teacher (EW)
24x30, acrylic, papers on black framed canvas $1500 My hands. The square palms of my father and the deft movements of my mother. I was an art teacher for over 30 years. They have rarely been smooth or paint-free. Like water pouring through my fingers, hand-written notes from students, parents, student-teachers and colleagues, cascade into a bowl-like form, but fail to hold them at all. They are the good, the bad, the funny, and the ones that made me cry - a summary of my life as a teacher. A tribute to this beautiful, messy, and most wonderful profession that has so profoundly shaped who I am. |
The Weight We Carry (NW) 48x36, acrylic on unstretched canvas $3450 A painting that honours the grandmothers who give care to those in front of them and behind them; who curl protectively over their young ones, lips moving in prayer, while looking over their shoulder at the feeble and aged, knowing their lives are carried by that same current. It is the current of time, but also of great love. Here, the branches are ever more intricate as they cross borders and span generations. So much weight in one small vessel. |
This Land Was Made for You and Me (EW)
60x48, acrylic on wood framed canvas Just Sold to some wonderful people! Wolves that travel alone have a story to tell. It is not their normal social behaviour. This particular wolf is on a journey, strong west winds at his back as though nudging his steps forward. The mountain range is the Continental Divide separating British Columbia from Alberta, delineating water’s flow east from west. This wolf traverses this great geological phenomenon with ease. Oblivious to political boundaries, these long distance movements along the spine of our beautiful continent establish and maintain new groupings, enriching the gene pool. |
Treehugger: Black Cottonwood With Lee-Anne (NW)
64x64, acrylic on 5 separate wood-framed canvases (note: this image has been digitally "stitched" together for easier viewing) $7150 Just west of Fernie, British Columbia, are some of the oldest known cottonwoods in the world. They are protected by the Nature Conservatory of Canada. Lee-Anne is one of those individuals whose heart for wilderness has led her to advocate with both intelligence and passion for sustainable use of our wild spaces. She also happens to be one of my dearest friends in the world. |
Tumbling Bear (EW)
60x48, acrylic, typographical maps on wood framed canvas $4320 Topo maps shatter as a blue grizzly tumbles through space. What does it look like when our wilderness landscapes are fractured beyond recognition? At what point is it irreparable? We are well aware of the threats, and no one can deny our need for natural resources. These mounting pressures require that we step up intentional strategies so that our beloved planet does not suffocate in our embrace. Knowing movement patterns of various species across landscapes, identifying crucial wild spaces that connect animal and plant populations, and the protection of natural areas, are progressing up the Priority Ladder - at least we hope so. There is hope that the tumbling grizzlies of this world will land on their feet. |
Verdant Ground (NW) 16x16, acrylic and vintage wallpaper on canvas $640 There is a tree I regularly pass on my way to my studio, a black willow, that catches my eye because of the way the trunk is swept in a twist that seems to have been shaped by the west winds. Sometimes the reason to paint is for the sheer pleasure of the shapes, the colours and the blending of materials to create a new world. |
What Floats My Boat (NW) 48 x 24, acrylic, paper & markers on birch panel $2850 In response to the pervasive nature of alienation and fatigue, especially post covid, I asked the question, “What gives hope, now, in these times?” I invited anyone I could to share their thoughts on a small, torn piece of paper meant to resemble a sail. Over the months these paper sails found their way back to me. They arrived in envelopes from across Canada, they were shyly handed to me in the grocery store or left anonymously in my studio mailbox. I was moved by their simple candor. Many more arrived than I expected or could use, but every contribution is represented on this painting, either by collage or by scribing the words within the liminal space between the forms. These words, mostly from strangers, were impactful. Reading through these 200+ offerings did not solidify certainty or explain to me how to grasp on to hope, elusive as it is. Hope comes in such a wide range of shapes and sizes, after all; your hope is not necessarily what ignites my hope. But as I read the words, it struck me that hope could be seen as a pace setter, a way maker. Not what, but how. We can ignite it in one another. It is found, together, in community. |