Isolation Series: Leaf Music

"Leaf Music"
11x14" marker & ink on paper

Just as we do in the spring, come autumn, my husband and I like to take long drives to observe the colours - and music - of the trees. This expansive and moving colour production stretches for miles and miles: tired greens giving way to the glowing hues of russet, cranberry, lemon, and orange. Closer to home, there are two enormous sugar maples at the creek’s edge that turn an incandescent shade of pumpkin orange. To stand under this luminescent leaf canopy in October is to experience a tree’s singing up close. I place my hands on the trunk and swear I can hear a deep humming. Vivaldi's "Spring" is a tree’s greening song but Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus is their fall finale.

 

Isolation Series: Aromatherapy

 

"Aromatherapy"
11x14" marker and ink on paper

I find the aromas of the autumn season particularly evocative. One whiff of the dusty scent of leaves raked into a big pile takes me back to my childhood, of rosy cheeks and leaf debris in my hair. The smoky waft of a burning bonfire calls to mind times of gathering and singing, of hot faces and cold backs and watching sparks fly off into the inky night sky above. The earthy smell of just-pulled carrots and potatoes conjure images of slow simmered family suppers. So, on this rainy October day, I pull my soup pot from the cupboard, assemble the last fruits of the garden, chop and simmer, stir and taste, and let the therapy of homemade soup take me on a journey, seasoned with the echoes of fond memories.

Isolation Series: The Sparrow's Grotto

"The Sparrow's Grotto"
11x14 marker and ink on paper

The sparrows have become dear little regulars at my spot by the creek. The song sparrow is a virtuoso and sings from the bushes and trees all day long. The swamp sparrow is more secretive and rustles about in the reeds and grasses, flitting through the bushes then down to the creek’s edge to sip the waters. On my visits to the creek, I sometimes scatter a handful of birdseed. The greedy chipmunks and squirrels vie for first dibs and often chase each other away completely leaving the seed unclaimed. When that happens, the swamp sparrow hops into view and dines freely within the shelter of the undergrowth. One creature’s loss is another’s gain. 

Isolation Series: Mink

"Mink"
11x14 marker & ink on paper

One of the most curious creatures I have observed at the creek is that of a mink. I soon learned Mink is a creature of habit, choosing a set time and place to swim, hunt, and dine on the plentiful crayfish living in the waters. How fortunate this often coincided with my visits, and within my line of sight. Swimming in and out of the shallows, Mink would splash suddenly and rise up with a sparkling crayfish dangling from its’ mouth. Mink would then disappear into the curtain of river reeds and grasses to dine in secret; tiny, distinct cracking and crunching sounds a testimony of breakfast being eaten. At the start of my visits Mink would scurry to cross the path between us, sometimes solo, sometimes in the company of other mink. As summer progressed the path crossings became less hurried and on one occasion, Mink paused in front of me, rose up, and gave me a good stare. I like to think we grew in wary comfortableness. Had I not been a creature of habit myself, nor been willing to explore this creek, I would have missed out on meeting Mink, of having my eyes and ears opened in new ways, and of being touched by the wonder and wildness of nature in my own backyard.

 

Isolation Series: The Puddle Jumper

"The Puddle Jumper"
11x14 marker & ink on paper

I think the dogs are faring quite well these pandemic days. They are good friends, and comforting company. Come rain or shine, they take us for walks. I’m told this is a highlight for a dog...that - and car rides. But on rainy days they get to wear stylish clothes and make all the people they meet smile!  

Isolation Series: The Seed Bandit

 

"The Seed Bandit"
11x14 marker & ink on paper

They’re back, these pesky ring-tailed raccoons! Just when I think I’ve outwitted them they gain the upper hand. Feeders destroyed, sunflower seeds “hoovered” in seconds. They display an attitude of “sucks to be you, lady” when caught red-handed before casually shuffling off. It’s like watching the second wave of Covid arrive. #@! We’ll get the upper hand yet.

Isolation Series: 2020/2021

"2020/2021"
11x14" marker & ink on paper

This is the year we wait. We watch the weeks and months march on. We do what we can to participate in Covid-19 prevention and protection measures, to creatively make-do. And we wait some more. 

 

The Consolation of Sunflowers

"The Consolation of Sunflowers"
24"x 36"
acrylic on gallery cradled panel

St Lawrence College is hosting an online virtual art show entitled "Wish You Were Here." I entered this large painting along with 2 mixed media pieces. Voting is requested from the public for your favourite painting(s) and is now open. Here is the link:  https://www.mariannevansilfhoutgallery.ca/ 

Throughout this pandemic nature has become very dear to me. I have been exploring my own backyard as I weather the Covid-19 realities. This has become a place of safety and great solace in the midst of times of isolation. Nature has given me new lenses to view and process this weird season. This painting of sunflowers, indeed, offered great consolation.