Painting is silent poetry

Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting that speaks - Plutarch

I was reminded of this beautiful quote today, and like many of the writings shared by the Ancient Greek Philosophers, it is profound in it's truth and simplicity. That we may weave together the threads of so many art forms into a tapestry that gives life a glow of existential grace is inspired, and must surely be humanity's gift to this wild world. An act of respect, reverence and reciprocity bound together with pigment and words, thoughts and passion, and an ever curious and open heart. Creating with adoration and devotion as the antidote to destruction and ignorance.

I think any day ending in y is a good one for philosophising on the ways we can embrace the utter extraordinariness (is that a word?) of the here and now, and acknowledging all of the remarkable beings we share that now with. How do we honour them? For me, that is through silent poetry, through painting. 

This painting has made quite the transformation. A forest raven from the depths of Tasmania's alpine forests, with which I held palaver in June last year. She was rather shy, but ever so curious, and so from a short distance we traded caws and coos, moments of eye-to-eye connection that brought tears prickling to my own, and my silent vow to honour her and share the beauty of her being far and wide.

I found myself at a loss for what blooms to highlight her beauty with, and then apple-blossom popped into my thoughts. Tasmania is known for it's apples, apples are one of my favourite foods (on par with strawberries), and apple blossoms traditionally symbolise love, good health, and future happiness. I loosely sketched the blossoms onto the canvas with white chalk, and then became very unsure of my ability to render the image that was in my mind. She turned her blue eye to me and said, “just try, and see what happens”. Perhaps she knew a Greek philosopher or two in her previous lives. 

She requires a longer conversation yet, more details and glazes, and for that extra time with her yet I am grateful, as I have no doubt she will find a new home very soon.

Work is underway on this pair now too - at 50x60cm (20x24in) they are the largest painting I have undertaken to date, and in all honesty, they make me want to paint bigger and bigger still. I want to paint them life size, and larger than life, to reach out and sink my fingers deep into their thick hair, to feel that warm-dog-breath on my skin, and that particular big canid lean-into that has you share their weight, their strength, and their tenderness all at once. 

I embody wolf energy as I work on them, powerful and playful, ancient. 

The roses have already undergone three iterations, and another may yet come before the final layers go down - I am searching for the right interplay between thorny and beauty. It will come. Now this underpainting will rest for a day or two before the next, more detailed layer, and the next threads woven into the tapestry of their story.