Bringing the Light
When I had my 2 dogs I used to walk everyday, morning noon and night - warm days and cold winter summer spring and fall. Into the fields, into the woods behind and surrounding my house home studio gallery in Rupert, Quebec, Canada. It was quiet, peaceful - full of life and light.
This little painting was made with the memory imagination of my walks in mind. I worked on it for a long time, years, chipping and chopping away, adding and subtracting. At one point, it was a summer painting. As it is, winter, makes the most sense to me, cold bright snow is the strongest memory I have from that time in my life. It's also from a time when I'd snowshoe with a friend of mine who'd just moved into a small, humble abode down the road from me. We'd meet there on the trails in the woods unexpectedly on occasion - as time rolled on we'd make plans to meet and so it went, on and on. We had illuminating dialogue. He's a devout Christian and talked about Jesus a lot and I am a devout secularist who is fascinated by most if not all religions. Over the years we've become good friends despite the fact that he's moved away from that small little humble abode and now resides in the big city. At one point in our friendship, he went through a challenging time in his personal life and he needed some help and it seemed easy for me to give some help.
A few weeks ago I renovated and transformed a space in my house into my own personal Art Gallery. One of the things I needed doing and which I was not about to do for fear of the unknown was the installation of lights. Good lights. Clear, warm bright lights. My friend, whom I used to walk with on the wooded paths and open fields is in addition to being a Christian also an electrician. So, I called him up, told him what I was doing, what I needed. He came over the next day. Wired the new Art Gallery, put up the lights. Then he did the same thing in my studio - because according to him it was akin to painting by candlelight. Which is nice if you're having dinner with a loved one but, really, not such a wonderful set-up for a working painters studio. Anyhow, I was impressed and touched. And when I inquired about the 'damage' he merely said: "John, this is my pleasure to help you. I've never forgotten how you helped me so, please, accept this work as a token of my appreciation". Nice huh? And being the sentimental guy I am, I'm giving him this painting, a painting of the woods and fields where we used to walk.