25. February 2020
20. February 2020
I never laid eyes on these individuals, but their work was in evidence everywhere. It is amazing to see how much life is supported by these guys. Fish, fowl, insects, and large mammals are some of their dependents. You cannot help but think, what have I done to support life on the planet? How big a mark will I make, and will it be red or black? I was looking at this from a clearing in the forest. What I mean to say is, they even provided the sun on my back. Damn!
16. February 2020
Still at Lane Cove looking up. My palette is a smorgasbord of color for my winged friends with an exoskeleton. I harass them away from the wet paint but welcome their landings on the dry areas. I don't worry about my painting. It is their welfare that concerns me. Butterflies, bees, flies and mosquitoes hover and land disappointed there is no sweetness in Liquitex Cadmium Red. Dragonflies bank in predatory flight. This is no faerie, and I am no fox.
15. February 2020
This is a big, wet, sloppy one. It paired well with this cold, rainy day. Imagine, everything comes out of a backpack...and it is wet. Fuel, water containers and filter, stove, tent, food, clothes, first aid, journal, paint, canvas (for several paintings), stretcher bars(16", 20",24", 30"), tacks, flashlight, coat, sleeping bag, book, ...etc! Pretty great, right! It was. I did two paintings on this day and I got to watch otters play and hunt. I was 48 and green. At 63, I'd have to train for...
11. February 2020
Fire in the sky. A touch of dragon's breath. Fairly fairy free! I am painting from the same location as the last piece. I have turned my focus 90 degrees, to the edge of the wood and a meadow beyond. The sky opens up and fairy kind aren't partial to sunlight. I am just off the path, sitting on the ground. Though I do my best to tread lightly, my footprint is substantial in the fragile ground cover. Two weeks later, I could still tell where I had set up. This is easily mistaken for a trolls...
10. February 2020
Occasionally , one happens onto a spot that speaks to them like no other. Lane Cove on Isle Royale was that way for me. The idea of fairies, gnomes, witches, and dragons seem possible. Trees become sentient beings that witness our brief travails and passages. I made several journeys here and hope to return. I envy the loons and otter that entertained me with their play and song. This is their home. Beneath the canopy, we are all green cousins, sustained by the pure water of Superior.
07. February 2020
Learning to live, camp, and paint from a backpack. Three miles didn't sound like much, but with a 70 pound pack, over roots and rocks, it was murder. This was my first primitive art camp. I returned to base the next day and shed 25 pounds. For the next three weeks I would consider each gram that entered my pack. I got very buff, and dropped 10 lbs off my 120lbs fighting weight. I was famished this entire trip. I had voluptuous dreams of cheese burgers with french fries. Though deprived of...
05. February 2020
Off the porch of a tiny island shack were these two strange trees growing from a single trunk. They were different colors. I imagined them in conversation, witnessing the bizarre behavior of us humans. These trees made me smile. I envied their relationship and place.
02. February 2020
Another simple line drawing from Isle Royale. Waiting for the elphan creatures to spirit me away.
22. January 2020
Back at Isle Royale National Park for my second season. Thought I might show what my underdrawing looks like before it is painted over. This trip I did not have a cabin, but spent three weeks in a tent. It is a huge challenge to carry food, gear, paint and canvas, when each gram is felt with every step. The Park Service let me stash extra supplies in storage so I could periodically resupply my backpack. As a rule, you could only spend one or two nights at each campsite. This was tough because I...

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