Deep into space. (Art)

The cosmic world has always intrigued me, and painting these sights that elude the naked eye I find a wonderful exercise for the imagination.

This is a bit of a fantasy piece. A combination of what the eye can see (clouds, stars, as in a night sky) and the nebula gases of deep space; brought together with a hint of a new moon. In hopes, a reminder of how much more there is to existence than just what we see.

A very popular and usually loved constellation would be Orion the Hunter, easily found in the sky by its three bright stars in row representing Orion's belt. Close to this belt is what appears to be a fuzzy star. In reality the is Orion's Nebula, a beautiful mingling of gases that creates a birthing place for stars. And this is my interpretation of, in my opinion, one of nature's most raw and spectacular displays.

Everytime I am sitting at the window seat of a plane I love watching when the wings slice and trail through the clouds as the plane ascends or descends through the sky. And in that sense this painting was born; the beauty and dream of flight, the ambition of life and excitement of exploration_from our world to beyond.

This piece was originally inspired from an image I saw on the internet. When I first saw it a quote from Albert Einstein came to mind, "...We never cease to stand like curious children before the great Mystery into which we were born.". And as the painting began it was in focus of taking a world we know and transforming it with just slight tweaks of the unknown. Representing change, and the ability to follow it with curiosity, appreciation and love.

The idea of something in nothing, the thought of different dimensions, the notion that not all can be explained...a blackhole. An entity of immense power, yet one that can only be found by its impact on its surroundings. That was the beginning of this piece_a piece that also developed the interpretation of a mother and baby elephant together; roll with it. =)

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Into the Volcano

Rain and mud sop inbetween my toes as I slug over and around the black boulders that hold this jungle together. Beautiful gnarled roots slither out of the ground in many successful attempts of grabbing ahold of my step. All the while, life continues down this glistening trail...corner around corner.
The sunlight breaks through the roof more as trees become younger and shorter...then; a wall of nothing. One can literally step over this line from forest to nothing; as if stepping back in time.
The black rock collapses and explodes for a field of seeming infinity; the jagged teeth of mother nature in her most primordial days. And at the horizon.
..a looming presence of a hill, slightly uneven and notched. A dark foreboding amongst the steam and sulfer filled sky.
There's a sign, literally. A skull and crossbones set against the caution of yellow. Hm...red would've been more effective.
Upon the foothill of this creation the ground screams 'go away!'. It's a ball pit from hell...pointless ups and downs of razor sharp rocks just pleading to move from their rest and become yours.
Finally the ground becomes one piece again as the slope climbs...the black even begins to give way as burnt shades of red, brown and white mark some insane happening. I stop for a moment and look back...the forest line seems so far away; I am on and island precariously perched in a sea of black rock.
And it is an amazing sight.
Trudging a little further up; suddenly, there I am - at the summit. The entire top of the land is no more, a void of peak//imploded. The hole belches fumes and smoke from all around - but there is a bottom not too far down. Its ground appears unnatural...cracks run all through the heaving pieces of new earth that are littered with alien formations...not solid, not liquid; some weird limbo inbetween - jagged and raw, yet still growing. And in the direct center, with a menacing open grin there is the crater within the crater. Shrouded in smoke its mystery beckons...and I climb in.
Walking the rim and passing through a blast of steam, I find a slope that is climbable. Each area touched is a different temperature.
..like the hot/cold game on crack. Once my feet hit the floor it hits me...I am in a volcano!
My heart pounds with fear and excitement as each step further is done in the anticipation of the ground underneath completely giving way. The walls of the summit are towering now, and the fumes distorting. I no longer have sight of my friends up on the rim, as the thumping of two tourist helicopters circling the sky echo inside the crater and become near unbearably loud.
Half way to the center I pause, the formations are incredible...truly I stand in a different world. As I spin to catch it all the ground's crust crunches and grinds into the layer underneath. A soft crackle compared to the thumping of my heart as I crept closer to the middle - step.by.step. A beat that joined forces with the helicopters that were sticking around way to long...my entire world was thumping as my hands began to tingle in a rush of anxiety and bliss - for the heart of Hawai;i was near within reach. My body's logic refused to walk any further and I resorted to a crawl to the edge. Slithering amongst a bed of brand new pebbles, trying to peer through the white plume and see this Earth's inards. The side walls were striped in a variety of burning colors...along with an eerie neon green, and it all shimmered in a light condensation. Yet the haze was too thick to see in and the deep merely held of pink glow inside. But it is the sound that caused myself to recoil in dear survival from my destination. A crashing that could be felt through the thin ground...a splash, hiss then pop - over and over. The ground was liquid and furious...an ocean of earth smashing about directly underneath me. I did not need to see it to feel the incredible awe and power...
Light-headed and tingling my way out was much quicker than in, following my same path caution was sacrificed for time. And though I would do it, again and again...relief was prominent as I clambered to the rim; and finally - the helicopters left their perch above.

-Pu'u O'o Cone at the Kiluea Volcano, Hawai'i
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For the love of trees. (Art)

I had never intended to make a collection of tree related artwork, but nature proved to me to provide a beautiful and amazingly unique subject that can be painted over and over again without ever failing to deliver it's originality or awe.

This piece came from the idea of a japanese cherry blossom tree, painted with acrylic paint on stained wood. The image of the hinted pinks and reds from the pedals fluttering in wind around this single smaller, yet majestic tree was the major inspiration in my mind. In an appreciation of the perfect little moments of life.

While living in Alaska one summer, there was a particular time I remember when the air would fill with floating cotton balls_translucent yet glowing with sunlight_as the wind blew. The source was a tree I never found the name of, but it's presence left this image behind in my mind. This piece was done on canvas with acrylic paint, and a gloss clear coat was drizzled on resulting in a painting the would change hue and sheen at different angles and lighting. In attempt to represent the orbs ability as it moved through the light.

From an old home of mine I could relax on the porch and take solace in this tree in the front lawn that had lived for a lifetime. It was an oak that had most likely lost a large limb at some point that was about head high on it's trunk. The result was an intricate knob centered on the tree that reminded me of a heart. I could imagine the tree absorbing energy from the earth, this heart then pumping it through the tree's viens and ultimately pouring it out to the surroundings through limbs and leaves. Something I tried to capture in a surreal sense.

This piece was more imagination than any direct inspiration. I was aiming to connect the cosmic world with this symbol of life and nature. The green and blue hues were to represent leaves, clouds and nebulas...as the subtle black in the background carried stars of the distant night upon a close look.

I entitled this "Live, Love, Grow"; a piece that was simply the thought of new growth in an old forest. And in hopes, a thought that would inspire those that saw it to, well...as the title says.

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Ireland

June 2006

After a nightfall of ocean flying I awoke (only in the literal sense) cruising above green mountains that broke a swirling mist upon morning sky. My first glimpse of Ireland.
Anxiously I watched the heaving country give way to geometric patterns of stone upon earth. As eventually all green was gone and man's creation rose to meet the descending plane. Dublin.
I amused myself during a quick bus ride into town with short chat to strangers and glimpses of the city from inbetween windows, and from the wrong side of the road. The streets interweave with a bit of chaos that mimics the neverending stairs. Amusing, but always wandering in circles.
Dublin
With mere hours of sleep under my belt and morning just stretching onto dawn I stumble across my hostel. Of course not able to get into my room for another 8 hours. Sleep, what a beautiful thought.
So I decided to tackle the endless stairs without logic of a rested mind, or a common thing known as a map. Upon intersections masses of people struggle for right of way as no one knows or can seem to figure out what side to be on; so we play a game of pinball as I try to remember which way traffic will be coming from. Beautiful architecture mingles with a randomness of shops, restaurants and tourism. The river splitting the city in half is covered with bridges that at first capture awe and amusement, but quickly become ordinary after crossing - though the gentle bounce as a parade of feet pound its surface never seemed to get old.

The main street runs proudly across the liffey with statues of worth and a simple spire pole shooting up to the clouds. A simplicity that somehow captures interest and inclines you to stare up to the top, curious - but not exactly sure why.
I soon forgot any objective I may have had, if there was one...and wandered far past the globs of people; finding some of what I found captured my eyes the most - life.
Under an old cement bridge that crossed a flowing river of brown and rock, a group of older men [or appearing such] lay upon the hard ground drinking and tossing around cards; laughing and talking in high spirits.
Around the corner houses lined both sides of what looked to be a one lane street. Of which cars were somehow managed and crammed onto the entire stretch. A metal masterpiece held together by small fences and even smaller lawns. Front steps spilled onto the walk as each led to a door of it's own spetacular color. Beaming against the reddish brick of the houses, which became one continuous wall cradling the skinny street.
A soccerball bounces across the way, followed by a young lad chasing after it cheering to another in thick tounge.
The scene did the city well, bringing a bit of real to what felt catered.
Though now entirely without a clue of my whereabouts I began to think towards getting back. Down, up, in and out I went about and finally came across the spire in the centre that I became to loathe as a landmark. Still hours till my bed was ready I passed out on a surprising comfortable sofa in the lobby; oblivious to the constant coming and going of tourists just like me.
At some point I mustered the clarity to get into my room and bed when the time came, passing out again - awaiting the arrival of being awake in Ireland for the first time.

First beer: =)

Turns out I was to enjoy the company of another american amongst the many rooming. Which upon a hypothetical thought I would've imagined to be nothing of importance or possibly even a disappointment. But in reality was a bit of welcomed comfort amongst the jumbled bit of difference crammed into one room.
So after finally waking up, and a bit conversation I got to have my first beer and my first pub in Ireland with a bit of home...making it all a wonderful experience.
I opted for the unknown and went for a Kilkenny - bit of a tourist Irish drink I find now, but none the less an excellent ale I still say.
Beautiful thick froth that swirled up through the dark amber to collect into what is one of the most perfect mugs I have seen.

...

Wandering the city by day; drinking it up by night is the pattern as the crossing crowd of shoppers, site seers and workers transform into cheers and empty mugs followed by refills. Pubs eventually give way to the night and clubs pick up the slack. Dance floors and DJs found down the alley, in the basement, on the roof or pretty much where you wouldn't think to find one. Time passes more and finally all is spent, the streets are empty only occasionally accompanied by a random urination or puddle of vomit - and the inevitable couple embraced in song stumbling down the cobblestone against eachother's weight. Another good night in the city.


Country:

The countryside creeps slowly from the city. Covered vastly by farmland; cattle and sheep speckle the scenery - herded by half walls of stacked stone that hold beauty of their own.
Rain or sun, not for moment does the green falter; enhancing any other color and causes it to glow of unnatural brilliance. Of which effect villages and towns can be seen coming from afar in most areas. Little havens amongst the rolling green. Not once did I come across an area of civilization without a pub; as from what I understand would be something unheard of anyhow. The social scene of life revolves around here, and it is not just the drink - but the atmosphere; this is where the day rests, the night lives, the traveler sits, the average says hello, etc.
It is a bit to take pride in really, a good niche in life.
Oh yeah, back to the country. lol
Eventually as west is traveled the ground begins to rise and the mountains I saw on my flight in start to show their reality. Still green, but shedding layers in spots and bearing stone of grey and white. Displaying it's strength with a bit of boasting, smiling grins of jagged walls and spitting boulders and stones alike along the plush surface. And almost always keeping a bit of mystery, hiding their heads amongst the mist of lingering clouds.
The coast varies from fields to beaches to mountains to cliffs to forests to rivers to a bit of it all.
By far one of my favorite parts of Ireland; the camping, biking and hiking was refreshing and breathtaking.
..surely worth the trip alone. Though one MUST come prepared to get wet. I think that is more common than finding a pub even. lol

The people:

Simply are grand. Their hospitality is far beyond that of an average known american; as homes, rides, days and minds have been opened to me purely on whim. As a whole they seem quite eager to share culture and thoughts; and seem to function on a much more often positive note than I am used to seeing.
You may run into the occasional drunk man that bumps into you dripping of liquor, burps intoxication and tells you to, 'Fock ofh!' But hey - even he still talked to you! Or you may come across the random extremely drunk lass that cannot even finish a sentence that makes a bit of sense, irish accent or no. But somehow carries a conversation with you - laughing and smiling so in the end you feel as if something worth was still said. As she is stunned only for a moment when when your new found friend asks her to marry him. (that's for you of course Eoghan)


Oh man - this getting a bit long and I a bit tired of writing; as you probably a tad sick of reading. :)
So I'll end on this note; Ireland is wonderful - every aspect is worth seeing and deserves an opinion of your own. There are amazing people to be met and unforgettable scenery to be seen.