“I used to visit all the very gay places
Those come-what-may places
Where one relaxes on the axis of the wheel of life
To get the feel of life
From jazz and cocktails”
—from “Lush Life” by Billy Strayhorn
A FEW YEARS AGO, if you told me I’d fall under the spell of a pond I’d have thought you were crazy! I was into very urban hobbies like hanging out in bars, going out for brunch alot, and riding around on a big Dutch bike.
Now I’m into ponds. Not just any old pond, but a beaver pond full of dead trees, with great blue herons nesting in some of them. A pond off a side road, down a small hill, surrounded by granite ridges. It’s a mesmerizing place to me. I see it in my dreams.
A pond for all seasons
In the winter it’s stark, almost austere with everything in subtle shades of grey, blue & white. In Spring soft greens begin to surround the pond and the eventually the herons return. The trees turn black in the rain, but at dawn the whole place lights up in shades of gold and pink. It looks full of promise. Sometimes it stinks.
In Summer the lushness is overwhelming. All around the pond trees explode into every shade of green imaginable. The colour of the pond changes with the sky. Foxes bark & scuffle in the woods. The heron chicks start to look more and more like their parents—though they still stand around waiting to be fed. Right now the bugs are so oppressive I don’t visit much—just enough to keep in touch.
In the Fall, well, isn’t everything gorgeous in the Fall? The woods start to thin out and you can see the granite outcrops more clearly. As green vanishes from the scene the cattails turn brown, then pale gold.
But why?
But why this place and not another? There’s no shortage of beautiful spots around here. Why has this place hooked my imagination?
First, I think it’s those crazy trees. At its simplest the pond is a disk of water with scores of vertical lines coming out of it. It’s a design that speaks to the graphic designer in me.
I’m also deeply interested in the intersection of the horizontal and the vertical planes. It gets me fired up. Think of the crossroads, a Celtic cross, heaven and earth, our higher aspirations and our earthly desires. I’m fascinated by intersections, edges, where one thing meets another. I’ve been thinking about this since I was a young kid.
A reflecting pool
Sometimes I think the pond is stark—an ugly beauty (dead trees). Sometimes I think its wild or random or lush. Other times I focus on the calmness of the place, especially when the herons are around. The adults always seem so serene.
Then I realized, the pond reflects how I am. One day I’m energized, another day I’m languid. Some days I’m open and receptive. Other days I’m full of expectation and insistence. Each visit is a wonderful study—of the pond and of myself.
Pond Life: new paintings
I’m still working on these paintings. Some are haunting and austere. Others are lush, with hits of high key colour. Many have trees, but some are more abstract and express atmosphere more than appearance.
I suspect I’ll be exploring this pond in paint for a while. Or maybe it will be something I keep coming back to or adding to. Time will tell.
I hope this post gives you some insight into the obsession behind my new work. And I hope this makes you a bit curious about Pond Life, the painting series I’ll be releasing next month. To find out more about my work and my process, visit my About page.
Thanks for reading!
New work coming in August
The heron chicks are waiting for food. You’re waiting for art!
Subscriber preview for the Pond Life paintings is coming up on August 19, 2021. They’ll be available to the public the next day as part of Riverdale ArtWalk.
If you’d like to become a subscriber, just fill out the form below.
photo of young herons on nests © Anthony Glenesk, 2021
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