Poseidon's Dinner Fork

This Sterling Silver fork is part of a dinner set I created using the mythology of Poseidon as its theme. The fork has three tines to represent Poseidon's Trident he used during the war of the titans, and gods.

As you can see, the tines are actually the tail fin of the fish, while the tip of the handle is the head complete with mouth and eye.

Sterling Silver Length: 8 inches


Water Rising

20" x 24" Oil on Canvas

The irony of rising sea levels along the world's coasts, but not enough of the precious, life sustaining element in many places.


On Painting

The making of art is a very individualistic practice. It emerges from the perspective of the maker, but then becomes a collective journey when shared, and viewed by others. It also involves a process that I admit I'm only beginning to understand. People often simply refer to being 'in the zone' when they are able to manipulate art,music, etc., successfully. One important rule to follow, and I try to force myself to be constantly aware of it as I'm working, is to allow myself to relax, and allow one part of myself to become totally lost in the process, while at the same time, cognizant enough to be objective about what it is I'm actually achieving. This can be a difficult balance to attain, and of course like anything else done well, can take years of practice to develop your technique, your eye, and yes, even your imagination. I think this raises an interesting point though - children have it much easier than adults when creating visual art. First of all, they have no fear. They have no parameters of what it is they can or can't do. They have no worry of what their peers might think. There are simply no rules. They invent their own, if that's what you can call it. So they take big chances as they draw, or paint leaning confidently on their imaginations. Equally as important, children are already living in a world of imagination. This is a common way in which we maneuver through our childhoods. As a result, many children readily think in pictures. As proof of this, give a child a crayon and paper and watch what they are able to do with it. Instead of copying from a photo, they are comfortable drawing upon their imagination to render any number of images. On the other hand, many adults have lost this former ability as they must wrestle with the normal challenges of responsible adulthood. Often, this large phase of our lives does not allow for such an indulgence as making art, which as you can see, is actually a very normal thing for us to do in our developmental years, and even as a species. ( More world leaders should make art of one kind or another). Another important thing I do, when planning my 'attack plan' (think of it more as a game than it as work - if it takes a lot of work to create art, then why do it?) is to allow enough key elements to come through. I plan from the early stages of a painting to work out a simple picture plane, and to stick to it. A child often does this - create a simple picture. Picasso used this technique well. If I'm successful with keeping things simple, then I don't confuse the viewer. I don't muddy the important pieces of information that our brains need to discern, and pull together in order to successfully form individual versions of the painting. This happens on a very subconscious level for the viewer. I think its important for an artist to aim for this. I know many times in the past, when I was struck by the fact that a certain painting, or another piece of art I was looking at, hit me a certain way emotionally, it was always an affirmation of how this process worked psychologically. Think of some of your favorite artists works for example, or think of well known abstract expressionistic pieces. These works are usually devoid of any figurative elements to help ground us, and point us in any one definite direction, or so we at first think... But, the ones that truly work successfully tug at our imaginations... I think whatever it is you wish to do well, then if the basic structure is right, if the key elements are there, and just as importantly, if unnecessary information can be withheld, that's when the magic can happen emotionally. I love this process.

Beach Head

16" x 16" Oil on Canvas

You come to a spot, and you sit and stare out at the water... and you think of how the world is made...and you think of who you are...and you think some more...what will become of it all...


The Piano

16" x 16" Oil on gallery wrapped Canvas Music fills the air in the House.... Gwen's hands moving up and down, her fingers playing with white and black keys... the melody wafts up the staircase to the second floor....and into the jewelry studio...


Outcropping II

11" x 14 ⅛" Oil on Panel

Anyway you paint it, the coastline of the Bay of Fundy is always there, beckoning to be painted again, and again.

I've used this specific size because it will fit one of the assortment of old frames we've come across over the years, and I cut the Masonite panel to match it. Although, upon second look of the particular frame, I chose not to include it in the photo because it has sustained irreparable damage. Really quite a shame, since it was quite handsome.


Saint John's Reversing Falls

16" x 16" Oil on gallery wrapped Canvas This is one of the paintings I worked on during my week long output at the Saint John City Market as hundreds of passerbys watched, and walked through.
Reversing Falls
Twice a day, the powerful tides of the Bay of Fundy, the highest in the world, do something very unique – they push the St. John River backwards, a phenomenon called the Reversing Falls. Here’s how it works: during high tide the water rushes through the mouth of the Saint John harbor and into the Southward-flowing St. John River. This creates turbulent rapids as it encounters two ridges and a bottleneck gorge at Reversing Falls. As the tide continues to get higher, and the water in the harbor rises, the downward flow in the St. John River is slowed, then stopped. This is called "slack tide". The push of the bay’s high tides continues until the river runs in reverse – upstream. Much of Saint John is built on rock, and is situated in and around the harbor. It can enjoy a cool, foggy atmosphere in the summer, though this can change as any particular summer may not receive as much fog as the following summer.The city does receive slightly milder temperatures in the winter, over inland New Brunswick, such as places like Fredericton, the capital of the province . Looking out the north facing arched window from the stairwell landing Just took this picture a few minutes ago from the second floor stairway landing. Seen through the window is part of the rear, attached garage roof, and the unattached woodshed and its roof that extends past it. The world outside is still covered in ice, and snow, and we are receiving yet, another wind swept bit of snow as a small weather system is moving through. I was just in the woodshed a few minutes ago loading up the wheelbarrows, and bringing more wood into the house for the 2 woodstoves. On the wall is a large, blank canvas awaiting the right kind of inspiration. A few thoughts on artistic house design The interior window opposite, is a salvaged piece we placed into the wall to let more daylight enter a small room, although the room does have its own, narrow, north facing window as well. Raw cotton curtains Gwen made, drape inside the window from a steel rod, and allows for privacy. In dark shadow relief, near the bottom of the photo, is the railing and top of two banisters. They too are also salvaged from various places in our abandoned farmhouse, and country auction expeditions over the years.