our garden becomes violet

Violet is the predominate end of spring and beginning of summer colour of our garden.

our gardens turn royal purple to welcome in summer

My garden turns violet and green at the end of spring, here you see wild geranium transplanted from Vermont in the foreground, the bloom orbs of the Chives, which will soon blossom in violet, with a background of indigo Iris and purple Alliums. Together with the Rhododendron and other flowers, I’ve already shown you, my garden truly turns a verdant royal purple to welcome summer.

Red-Breasted Thrush (Robin) nesting

It is funny for me when I mentioned the Robin – Red Breasted Thrush as spring approached, it truly represents the arrival of spring for us here on the 45 parallel - earlier post of March 29th 2005. I say funny now because the Robin has come back to me as spring slowly becomes early summer. As you can see, a Robin has made a nest in my Norwegian Maple tree next to my deck. It made me happy as a “tree lover” because there used to be a very large soft Maple where this hardwood now stands. That old tree had Woodpeckers and an array of other birds. This is the first bird to have nested in this tree, next to my deck where my tall old maple once stood. It sits on its eggs and carols us from the tree with a “tyeep” and prolonged “tut-tut-tut” as we dine outdoors. What is also funny is that I wanted to include a photo of a Robin for that above post but everyone I took was of poor quality. Gladly, the Robin appeased my desire for photos, only not according to my timetable. I guess Robins are like that because for me they never come soon enough to herald in spring either during our long hard winters.

alliums

In my post below “spirals can be fun”, I mention the Allium Flower that grows in our resplendent gardens. I used to live in Amsterdam and would often take a train down to Rotterdam. That train would always go through Harlem and the flowers fields of Holland. These plants remind me of those trips on the train as you’d look out and see an incredible patchwork of colours from the endless fields of flowers. I always remember the large fields of Alliums and so when they bloom in our garden they take me back to spring in the flowers field of Holland, my birthplace and loved home.

Soon this purple and the advent of summer will be complimented by its complimentary colour of yellow in sweet Iris and dazzling Columbines. Another wonderful study of secondary and primary colours.

GP

rhododendron

Rhododendron have come into bloom.

As I mentioned in my post below on Iris’ my Rhododendron’s were about to come into full bloom. Over the weekend, they did just that.

I am happy to say that in my minds-eye just now, I’m walking through the Rhododendron forests of Nepal in the lower Himalaya. What ecstasy it is, such unsurpassed beauty which none of us could create, only to document or render through art. These various coloured flowers up against the clear cobalt blue sky with these mountains in the background, I’m certain that I’m in Shangri-La. I cannot think of a flowering tree that is more vibrant and beautiful, with such large blooms as the Rhododendron.
Come with me then, to the mountain passes of the Himalaya as we walk along the banks of the highest river in the world Dudh Kosi towards Chomolangma, or Qomolangma ("Mother of the Universe"). I am humbled by the experience and praise God for the privelege to partake in such beauty.

Here are some images from one of my Rhododendron to help you on your journey

Free Tibet!

Such a delicate bloom, enjoy!

GP

Now that European Soccer Season is over.

Thierry Henry silences Spurs Fans.

If I had just one image, which could sum up my 2004-05 season as an Arsenal Supporter, a Gooner, a Gunner, this would be that image. It is of one of the greatest footballers of all time Thierry Henry TH14 after scoring a goal. Henry just mesmerizes me as I watch him play, what skill and finesse; he has such a brutal finish.

As Henry does to most opposing side’s fans, here he demands the jeers and pejoratives of Tottenham Hotspurs (Spurs) fans after silencing them with another of his well crafted goals.

Thierry Henry is one of the best footballers in the world and this would be my football picture of the year as a Arsenal Gunner. The looks on the various faces of the crowd show such contempt, shock, anger, all kinds of emotion; I love it.

Thank you Thierry TH14 for letting me watch your wonderful skills get you top goal scorer in the English Premiere League yet again, kudos’. Thank you Thierry for truly being a Gooner like myself. What a season!

I had a whole host of other images that I compiled as my images of the year, in the end I thought this one image summed up soccer for me this year. I also would like to thank Arseblog for doing such a great job of keeping me informed of what’s going on with the club and this picture.

I’m a dyed in the wool Arsenal Fan. That said, congratulations to Liverpool FC (the Pool) for winning the European Champions League Cup, Champions of Europe.

Liverpool's John Arne Riise

iris

Iris has started blooming in our backyard.

Not much to say today, worked hard in the gardens of the Monastery. I’ve been working on a meatier piece to publish here but it is not ready yet. So with little words just enjoy these events from our garden.

I do love Iris in all its varying forms. I have a few kinds and these are the first to bloom. I found by turning the image sideways I could make it larger for you to see its utterly beautiful display, the beard , the stigmatic lip and style arms. This image really titillates me, as the purple against the dark greens makes such an excellent secondary colour study – I remain an artist.

click image to enlarge

I also thought I’d show you something I’m eagerly waiting for, my Rhododendron to come into full bloom in the next days. The buds all ready to burst a lovely pale violet bloom, but they are so intense just now. I love these and they make me wish I were in Holland walking along 3-meter high trees of them as they grow there. Better yet, how about walking in Nepal and the forests of Rhododendron as they are blooming in the Himalaya. Oh yes -- more on that later.

That’s all for now. Enjoy!

Rhododendron buds coming into bloom.

How was your day?

what the bleep do i heart Huckabees know?

When I’ve looked out at the fabric of the cosmos, it has indeed spoken to me of good and evil. Not just spoken of it, it is has screamed it at me, or maybe I should say it has cried out to me. It has said we live in a world fallen from love into a harvest of death but also the hope of redeemption and the privelege / joy of life.

I’ve seen it in this cold spring Canadian sky from my backyard looking towards the center of London (Friday May 20, 2005 at 6:30am EST).

I’ve seen it looking at the same sky at night under the light of a full moon (Monday May 24, 2005 at 2:00am EST).

I’ve seen it in my beloved city of dreams and failures - landing at LaGuardia Airport, New York (Saturday May 21, 2005 at 9:45am EST).

I’ve seen it in death and the reality of nature. What was once a dead cat and now is a flattened piece of leather on the streets of Brooklyn, New York (fall of 2001).
What saddens me of this image is that no one cared, just leaving the cat's carcass on the road for thousands of trucks and cars to turn it to this, someday the rain will just wash it away. This poor creature died in the city, as it would have in nature.

I’ve seen it in birth and the cycle of life. An Osprey nest made in the light standards of a soccer field in North-East London near Fanshaw dam (summer of 2004).

Wherever I have looked in the cosmos whether it is the things made by humankind or nature itself, I have seen the indelible signature of God on all of it saying that all of life has such meaning and our decisions have consequence as we can affect the outcome of the universe by choosing love.

I picked these rather straightforward pictures because they are ordinary and would not sway your reaction, it would be easy to place a majestic landscape before you and say the above statements. I just wanted uncomplicated images from daily life to say that I see the above in the simplest of ways through the common images of my life. I guess I’m saying that I’ve been to and in New York long enough to know that I’m trying to sell the steak and not the sizzle, in that non-Madison Avenue way of things.

GP

i heart truth

I Heart Huckabees.

If as Karl T. Jaspers insists the final existential outcome of “authentic existence” results in us all making decisions, then living by the consequences of them, I would like to ask, what makes us choose those decisions? If we beings are simply made of the fabric, of the universe what makes one decision positive or negative, good or bad, right or wrong and why should any truly matter in the Woof and Warf of it all?

Macrocosm - I know it is true when I look here

When I’ve looked out at the fabric of the cosmos, by looking at the night sky for example, it has indeed spoken to me of good and evil. Not just spoken of it, it is has screamed it at me, or maybe I should say it has cried out to me. It has said we live in a world fallen from love into a harvest of death, the consequence of a poor decision you might say. Yes, the cosmos cries out that there is good and bad – it’s just that its reaction to it may seem muted at times, as the stars continued to twinkle even over the death camps of Auschwitz-Birkenau or the killing fields of Rwanda. The cosmos may seem silent but it is not, as the truth of good and evil are sewn even into the very fabric of existence. That big blanket which Bernard Jaffe (Dustin Hoffman) describes is indeed also connected to morality and ethics, good and evil.

Microcosm - I know it is true when I look here

We were once told that the achievement of the knowledge of evil would make us like God and that is why God had asked us not to choose to attain it. That half-truth was the most pernicious of lies as the perpetrator neglected to remind us what God had forewarned should we gain it. The knowledge of evil only precipitates the purchase of death, which is the separation of the God of love. In the light is no darkness, evil cannot dwell in good. That God is Love and no evil dwells inside love; even the knowledge of evil cannot live there. That was humankinds first existential decision and the cosmos and we have been living the consequences of that poor decision ever since.

William Blake - God Judging Adam 1795

As we all have this inherent understanding of what is good and evil how does this cosmos continue finding balance, instead of fluctuating towards the one or the other – affirmation of love or the chaos of absurdity. What in fact is the glue that holds this cosmos together? It is love. Love holds the chaos or oblivion at bay through common grace; you could call grace the sustainer which stops the something from pouring into the nothingness of entropy if you’d like – in that quantum physics way of things.

The universe also speaks back existentially and says there is love. Why? Because God is love and love created the cosmos. The universe was created for God’s pleasure so that we might enjoy it forever – it was a gift of love. All of us know in our hearts what is evil, it’s no surprise that murder isn’t celebrated in any culture except under the evil pretext of war and war is not love; war is hell. As we all know evil, so do we all know that we were created good as beings for love, the love of a parent for a child for example. We know that we are the God of creations children, separated from him by that knowledge of evil and its reward of death. This is not an existential relative but rather and absolute truth. The outcome of evil is usually evil unless the grace of love intervenes. These are the decisions we all make but the outcomes remain the same, evil can not begat good or good, evil unless the grace of love intervenes to redeem evil. There would not be a soul who perished in Auschwitz that would say their death there somehow enriched the world, yet even there they created music, and flowers grew from window boxes on the barracks when they lived. Even in the darkness, the light has shone and given this most heinous of human acts, genocide, meaning to us the living as to why we should choose love.

We don’t need to smack our faces with a ball to find a moment of nothingness on a Zen plane of conscientiousness, because our pain matters, it has value as does our joy. If you return to the eternal, pool of consciousness and don’t leave a ripple in that existentialist way of Zen, this is nothing more than death. We all leave a ripple and therefore we must choose life, love and as such that means we must choose God. If the end were truly death as in, no more being - nothingness, why would our existential decisions be nothing more than the Absurd Universe which Jean Paul Sartre describes in his book “Being and Nothingness”. Even Sartre made ethical and moral decisions (The Algerian War) based on the true underlying fabric of reality, that we are all created in the image of a God of Love. When Sartre became a communist, ethics suddenly became his choice and he would suffer the realization: that the praxis of his philosophy has a price. In the laws of cause and effect of psychics, even good and evil fall within those parameters. That is the nature of this existential reality and propositionally put forth by Christ’s sermons. Do we choose to love our neighbour, help the man on the road to Damascus? Alternatively, do we put ourselves back in the center of the Universe ignoring the reality of love and the laws of cause and effect only to serve our self, assuming to understand the infinite as finite beings? Hubris truly is a sin.

Even “I Heart Huckabees” came to that conclusion without that mention of God. (I digress; I did find it odd that they choose a group of peculiar Red-Necks to portray a religious family and not Mother Theresa for example.) The philosopher Albert Camus answered the charming French existential detective Caterine Vauban (Isabelle Huppert) presuppositions many years before and his stoic conclusion of simply taking of his own life; suicide. If as Vauban concludes in the movie “Life is an oscillation between the cruel and the absurd theatre of human drama the peace attained from simply being and not thinking.” The conclusion of “not thinking” might indeed be the same conclusion, which Camus postulated in his work “A Happy Death” where in he says, "You make the mistake of thinking you have to choose, that you have to do what you want, that there are conditions for happiness. What matters -- all that matter is -- is the will to happiness, a kind of enormous, ever-present consciousness. The rest women, art, success -- is nothing but excuses…” As if to say that only the decision matters and in that conclusion even it is meaningless. In a world without the God of love, all is but vanity, pain, joy, and human aspirations are all meaningless; thus, life is futile and empty as empty as death.

What does the big picture really say? It says pain and suffering have meaning and value; they make us human and tie us to our own humanness in understanding the outcome of evil. The resurrected Christ carried his wounds on his sanctified body for Thomas to put his hand on and finger in. The knowledge of evil will indeed evolve us to a higher being, although not the one Lucifer described in the Garden of Knowledge, rather it is the knowledge that knows our inseparable nature we have to a God of love. A God that created us in love to enjoy creation and the fabric of love throughout this cosmos forever.
Knowing this makes the decisions that much easier. Choose life, elect to do “good” and honour God’s Love in all that we do.

That is the good news! Knowing this gives us the information we need to make critical decisions and have foresight into what the outcomes might be. If we choose to love our neighbour, even if our neighbour can find no love for us, the outcome of our decision will always remain the same, even if our neighbour elects to harm us as the reward. If we suffer for love how much more does that say if even pain has meaning: the Passion of Christ? It seems to me that “I Heart Huckabees” based the final decision of the two main characters Albert Markovski (Jason Schwartzman) and Tommy Corn (Mark Wahlberg) on a complete leap of faith, they choose to do good in understanding their common humanity, being cut from the same farbic. I ask again, what makes their decision positive or negative? Using the formula of the film and existentialism, the only thing one can truly celebrate is that they made a decision; the rest is purely absurd and an excuse.

I Heart Huckabees

I enjoyed this film as it made me think and anything which causes people to question, “Why are we here?” is good by me. I wish more of Hollywood would stimulate such questions in us. A well done movie even if its outcome is bleak, it made me laugh!

spirals can be fun

I have this thing for Spirals

There are times I just like to doodle using spirals, even with my photographs. I don’t per-say call it art but I do call it having fun with art and spirals -- nothing more and certainly nothing less. Like this spiral I made out of a photo of the Allium Flower just beginning to bloom in my yard-- purely and simply fun. When the thirty or so Alliums growing in my flower beds come into bloom, it is a striking sight but this image was just for play – consider it a slow news day from the garden if you’d like. That said, I’m still having fun with my garden even if it is by only using Photoshop.

Here’s another which I did from a previously submitted image of the Fritillaria found in this post “Fruithilarious to Fritillaria and back again”. If you’d just like to see the original image of this flower click here or click on the image below for enlargement.

Enjoy.

waves of green wash over me

waves of green wash over me

Sometimes I let myself indulge in the forests.
To be washed over by seas of varying greens.
Emerald green, viridian green, sap green, every green.
Here in the cathedral of Juglans Nigra
under this canopy of black walnut.
Soothing soul and stirring my heart.


__________________________________________
Arsenal played Manchester United to a 0-0 draw in overtime, to win the game on spot kicks 5 to 4. Arsenal takes the silverware home this year with an FA Cup victory. Good on you lads, well deserved – go gunners!

my dog is getting old

Well I indulged myself today. I have not much to say other than my dog is getting old and I love him dearly. He and I went out into the yard and sat under the stand of maples while I played my Penny Whistles or Tin Whistles. It was just really nice and I enjoyed playing, occasionally petting or belly rubbing my dear old dog. I think he likes Celtic music, I know I do.

These are some of the things we saw in the yard as I played a jig or two and then some slow airs.

Japanese Maple - I like the leaf against the sky or at night
it reminds me of another leaf

Trilliums our Provincial Flower in Ontario

Crab Apple in Bloom

_______________________________
Well tomorrow is the big Cup Match day for my beloved Arsenal who play Manchester United for the British Football Association FA CUP in Cardiff Wales. It promises to be an exciting match and I’ve been thinking about for days. The match begins tomorrow at 2:00pm GMT or 10am EST and I’m going to have my Arsenal Shirt and Scarf on singing Gooner Songs all morning. My wife is going to New York for the weekend to catch a play and do some shopping; I can therefore be a soccer hooligan at home. Go you Gunners!

a bouquet of woodland flowers

A bouquet of woodland spring flowers for you. Lavender “Forget Me Not” next to whorls of white “Sweet Woodruff” with its fragrance of “Coumarin”, with the blue and pink blooms of the “Boy Girl Plant” (Lungwort) as a background; all perennials from the apothecary in our forest.

I spent the day at the monastery, working the gardens ready for the planting of anuals in the week to come. Yes, I’m tired. It was a brutal day in more ways than just work -- too much aggro.
This scene of serentiy at twilight, was a very comforting place for me to sit and think at the end of this day. Enjoy my gardening!

GP

P.s I am not a Buddhist but I like the idea of thinking on God a lot more than I do.

the cathedral of our magic tree

The entrance to the cathedral of our magic tree.

This grand old tree has stood in this spot longer than there are houses on this city block on which we all cohabit together. It is truly a majestic large Black Walnut Tree, which sits in the back of my neighbours and our property. This neighbour and I have no fences between us and he loves trees or at least tolerates their existence enough to leave them alone, a wise decision. He controls the destiny of this tree until another person takes hold of his domain, I see myself as its keeper. I spend a lot of time with this tree throughout the seasons. I am very fond of it although I do not know its name, other than: Black Walnut (Juglans nigra) - a deciduous tree from the Walnut Family (Juglandaceae). By name, I mean of course its identity, such as mine in the name Gerard that means, “spear power or thrower”. I’d like to know its name, maybe it is just Juglans Nigra and that works for me. Let me introduce you to my friend then, Juglans Nigra.

Inside the cathedral of Juglans Nigra - the magic tree.
A composite image of the magic tree in our backyards.

This tree reaches a height of maybe 30 metres plus or minus a metre or two; suffice it to say it is huge. What you cannot see is that the leaf buds have only just come on but have not yet opened, it waits until there is little chance of frost before it unfurls its canopy.
This gargantuan tree stands in the middle of this block from all perspectives of the compass. There are a few Elms, which may be as tall in the park nearby but the reach of this tree is by far the largest of any other tree on the block. You come to understand why its strength is sought after for the use of furniture, when you see its limbs extended out over you, standing underneath it.

To get to the tree you must walk through the entrance of my large grove of Sugar Maples where the terracotta head of Buddha sits under a set large low-pitched chimes (see top image). Once you have entered under its canopy you can see that it is surrounded by several large conifers and some large ornamentals trees such as a flowering Crab Apple. At Juglans Nigra’s feet is a wall of stone made of large boulders and large broken slabs of city concrete. It is a formidable environment and this tree speaks of power sitting here as King in the middle of this block and in our backyards. I have a great deal of respect for this tree and it deserves it, with its one ton limbs reaching out over top of you. I would go so far as to say that I have cathected with this tree on the level of love, I love this tree.

As an Anti-Cartesian thinker I believe that the question “How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?” is a valid one, superfluous maybe but valid nonetheless. If the Fairy Folk and the animals that live on this block had a main meeting area they would be sitting near or on the stone wall around this great tree, under its canopy in the full moonlight. Thereby it is a magical tree to me. I know this as truth as I lay in the long grass of summer under its reaching limbs. My friend Juglans Nigra embraces me when I do and I in turn it.
The photo is a digital composite which I softened the overlaps using PhotoShop. I could not photograph the whole tree from a distance as it is shrouded by a whole grove of trees on every side, thus my composite. I hope you like my photos but more importantly learn to love Juglans Nigra the Black Walnut; our magic tree.

GP

My heart is bleeding.

The Bleeding Hearts have come to bloom in my garden.

Every now and then, I need a bleeding heart, someone to listen to my concerns whether they are insignificant or grandiose. I need someone to confess my secrets and speak of how I feel about them. I may have succeeded or failed through life but sometimes it is just good to have someone to listen and if trusted help me gain perspective on both. Fortunately, I have a trusted and highly valued analyst, a psychologist. Sadly, I don’t see her enough and there are times I wish I had a direct line, like the red-phone.

That’s how I feel today. I’m down in the dumps because of personal concerns surrounding my work and its production. I feel betrayed by the ignorance of youth and how in youth’s arrogance sometimes speaks without considering the deeper ramifications of their words. I’m not speaking of my youth here.

As an artist, I have spent most of my life just making what I feel a need to make without concentration on marketability, sales, or the other accolades of success. There are those amongst me who feel otherwise. That a work of art or a written passage only has merit if it’s being published or sold – if not it either is a failure or not work at all. What I mean is that the labour involved in writing for example, is not work to them unless it shows some kind of recognized value as in publication - payment.

I ask how many great works of art in all mediums have been ignored in the artists’ life only to be seen as masterpieces with time. Imagine Vincent Van Gogh’s regret when he visited his brother Theo's gallery in Paris to see that all his paintings were still there, stored in the storerooms of the gallery. Yes, he saw that as little 1% of the 800 or so works he made in his 10 years of being an artist had sold. It must have been very hard for him. Imagine then that when he went his brother said, well none has sold so you mustn’t be working hard enough or that you’re not really an artist until they sell. This didn’t happen to Vincent, or I don’t think so, although he did kill himself shortly there after. Anyway, it has happened to me.

I made a choice 30 years ago to pursue my work with integrity and not chase the dollar. I’ve had good luck with recognition of the work but none with sales. So just now, I’m being valued by those whose opinion should matter, that my endeavours are worthless or not even work unless my writings are published and that my works aren’t a success unless they sell. If it were just the outside world saying it, I’d have no problem dismissing it, but when it’s coming from people, that you thought would know better it’s like a knife cutting into my heart, my bleeding heart.
Please, I’m not naïve I know that bills must be paid, that’s why I garden for a living.

I don’t intend to write a long polemical argument as to why I think they have let me down but sadly, they have, and I feel alone as a result. When I ask if success is sales, then maybe I should take a survey of what images would sell best and paint those, would these be good art? Their answer is, well if it is not working then make change, adapt and yes, maybe you should take such a survey. You know why I cannot do this!

My cousin is a very respected and learned Psychiatrist whose wife is the Dean of Psychiatry at a University in the U.S.A., they told me that in a survey of what images relax patients in waiting room, the image of a boat moored in a bay gives the client peace and comforts them while they wait. Should I be doing paintings of boats?

I’m the kind of person that takes that above demographic and paints a pirate ship in that bay plundering all those contented and sleepily moored boats. I want to shake them up. I want them to take to sail and venture out of the bay to where danger, but also great joy awaits them, out in open sea – that’s what the damn boat was made for and not a tent on water. Sadly, that doesn’t sell and so to does my work not sell. This might be more telling about me and why I’ve never done well at selling art, most people just wanted to be herded into security and the lulled into a feeling of personal peace and affluence. Until a fully fueled passenger, jet comes crashing through your 50th storey office window and continues through the floor until only its engines go flying out the other side of the skyscraper as did happen at the World Trade Center in my beloved New York. If I could really paint, the shit that makes people fall into a trance neglecting to ask the obvious questions such as “Why do so many 3rd World People hate me this much that they’d fly a plane into this tower?” I’d wouldn’t be painting that shit anyway as I’m not a Social Realist as in Stalinist USSR-CCCP. No thanks, I leave that to the spin-doctors. However, let us not forget their message in this age and that seems to be fixed almost entirely in saying “Fear thy Neighbour”. It saddens me as I really do like my neighbours, and would not like to live in such a world that does not attempt to love its neighbour instead of fearing them.

I feel alone, misunderstood and my heart is heavy with disappointment. Therefore, my heart is bleeding. Why must I justify myself, yet again to another doubter whose formula or burden of proof is unattainable to me because sales have always been small and the profits fleeting? I guess I totally suck at it, big time! Nevertheless, my Burroughs text for example using their equation is considered wasting time and not real work unless it finds a publisher. I will press on and finish what I started but even the truth for me remains: if it is never published, sold, or even read, I don’t care; it is still my attempt to contribute creativity to this world. That is my reward, that is my success that is my privilege and in the end, that is the integrity of making art. I don’t make art because I can but because I have to. If I have to think who will buy or publish it, I may as well give up because, well you know why – I suck as a “company” and view economics as the dismal arts.

Pray for me as I need strength to dart the arrows of doubt that hedge me in from doing what I believe I must, even if it is considered frivolous to those that matter to me.

Jack in the Pulpit

Well I’m over the tree thing for now. You know I’ll never be over the tree thing. I’ve walked the boreal forests of Haida Gwaii (The Queen Charlotte Islands), British Columbia, Canada (just below Alaska). There I walked amongst trees that have stood since Captain James Cook sailed the coastline more than 200 years ago. These trees reached heights of more than 50 metres. When my wife and I walked these forests, it was as though we were the first living beings to put our eyes on them or frolic under their girth. I’ll never be over the tree thing.

I worked under the trees today. I try to spend as many hours as possible working in my garden on Sunday. Just now, I am trying to relocate plants that are found in our natural habitat here in the Carolinian Forest of South Western Ontario. When our big tree next to the house had to go last year, I was worried that these plants might perish with all the sudden additional light. Trilliums for example do not like a lot of direct sunlight and other plants like Solomons Seal, May Apple, etc. like to be in forest environment. I’ve been busy moving samples to other areas to see how they will do there. Today was a nice damp and sometimes wet day, ideal for transplanting.
It is hard work but its fun and makes me feel at one with the world and myself. I need that, as it has been a tough weekend on the psychological front.

I thought I’d share these incredible plants with you. I love them, as simple as they are and as unpretentious are its bloom. They grow in sunlight but also shade. These grow along the side of my studio. I started them from seed many years ago, so I have a stake in propagating them. They are “Jack in the Pulpit”. Haven’t we all seen them in our children’s books, with the little Jack smiling inside his Pulpit? They are in full bloom here.
Enjoy!

Jack in the Pulpit (Arisaema triphyllum)

Jack in the Pulpit is also known as Indian Turnip (Arisaema triphyllum).
Plant Type: a herbaceous plant, perennial, can reach 65cm in height (25inches).
Leaves: plant has basal leaves only. Usually two but sometimes one. Each leaf is divided into three almost equal parts.
Flowers: The flowers are irregular in shape and are up to 8cm long (3 inches). They are green with purple or brown stripes sometimes brownish. Blooms first appear in mid spring and continue into late spring. The spathe (pulpit) is most often green streaked with purplish. The spadix (jack) is covered with tiny male and female flowers.
Fruit: A cluster of bright red shiny berries.
Habitat: Rich moist woods.
Range: New Brunswick south to Florida.

In folklore, there is one account stating that the Meskwaki Indians would put finely chopped root from the Jack in the Pulpit into meat that they would leave for their enemies to find, principally the Sioux. The meat was flavorful and would be consumed, and then in a few hours these enemies would first be in a great deal of pain and then die! It is reported that they also used it diagnostically by dropping a seed in a cup of water and if the seed went around four times clockwise, the patient would recover and if less the patient would die.

A closer detail of the Jack in the Pulpits from my home.

See how simple and subtle is their beauty. The leaves have not yet unfurled but ready themselves on this cool wet May day. I just love the way the light comes through its translucent female flower petal with Jack the Spadex inside her. I can’t say enough about how happy they make me.

Be sure to click the photo for an enlargement.

trees I know personally

A 360-degree composite photo of the tree line from my backyard.

These are some of the trees that I have the privilege of knowing personally. I have watched them and cared for them for the last twenty years. I have seen them all grow and tried to enhance their lives. They are the trees from my backyard.
These trees have watched my children come into life and grow playing underneath them. They have cooled us in the heat of summer. They have marveled us with falls glory in changing colours. They have calmed us in winter’s serenity and spoken of that same season’s fury. They have given us hope in spring as they do now. They are part of my family

I stood in my yard and took these images in a 360-degree rotation focusing on the top of the tree line. The top right photos is north, the cold white sunset is west (left), and the trees illuminated by springs cool setting sun are east (right).

I just thought that after my diatribe on trees you should at least see how many big trees I have surrounding the perimeter of my land. You see I love trees. In the days to come, I will show the magical tree in the centre of my neighbourhood, a grand 30-metre Black Walnut; it is where the fairies and the pixies play.

I live in the Forest City with Purpose and it has much to do with the Forest.

When is art, art? Some people think that good art is art that sells. Is it? That equation makes my art worthless, as I have not sold much in my life of work as an artist. The funny thing is, when I have compromised my work for sales, even through necessity, it has failed to sell also. I always thought of that as a message from the God of Love, telling me not to compromise myself. Maybe I have been mistaken and I am but a fool. I have tried to say to my constituency that pain has meaning. That the sufferings of life have inexorable meaning, as they create in us the very things that make us human, in the condition of our frailty and temporality. In my short life I have made masterpieces but there in did I find my value? No, it was in the fact that that God of love created me so that I might enjoy him and discover his creativity forever. There in lays my meaning.

If art were measured by success, integrity, or sales, which would be the truth of good art? It has always been simple to me and that is that good art is the art of integrity to each individual artist. The problem is that bills need to be paid and debits repaid and I have not been able to repay these with integrity.

In terms of financial burdens, I cannot liberate myself through my art, or my loved ones as a result there of. I am caught in the fulcrum of a spinning mandala from which I cannot escape. My need to create and to sustain my artwork. My desire to provide for my family, my loved ones. My wish to find peace in the turmoil of not being able to succeed at all these objectives and happy to find success in only one at a time. Sometimes it’s like a swastika mandala and very oppressive.

I’m feeling rather melancholic today almost depressed! Damn swastika mandala.
Help, I'm being oppressed!

we need trees – stop the murder

I just had this picture of a child nestled inside a tree, looking out to the edge of the forest from his resting place, watching in abject horror, as that forest was being “clear-cut”. As he gazed farther, he could see that all the workers of that “clear-cut operation” identified themselves, with these words emblazoned on their uniforms “Acme Toothpicks”.

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redrum eht pots - seert deen ew

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we need trees and love your neighbour

Remember these from my "May 2" post, they're Primrose (Primula)
Well here they are this evening at sunset - Primrose (Primula)

Well after yesterday’s tirade I feel a little like that damn bird that went around saying the sky is falling, the sky is falling.
Well I’m here today to say that while the sky isn’t falling the tree did, it did not crash into my house and kill us all as I feared yesterday. I had this picture of the four of us all impaled on limbs of the tree, as it lay crashed through my house. Could you imagine that as an epitaph “He died doing what he loved” - yikes – hugging trees.
Oh yes, Chicken Little.
It’s amazing how traumatized I become when I see trees being murdered. Where are the damn Ents when you need them? Their probably in the pharmaceutical industry making tranquilizers.

Well I am not beyond change, like the stunning Primrose growing in the backyard. I’m turning over a new leaf. From now, I’m going to fight if someone starts cutting down trees, the damn dirt bags. You’d think they get the bleeping picture. Maybe I could force them to watch “The Day After Tomorrow” a bunch of times. No that’s to kind.
Here’s what I’d do. I’d force their eyes open so they couldn’t blink, thus letting the smog aggravate their eyes until they really stung. Jeez, my dad was on a nasal-canula with an oxygen tank in tow for almost two years. When will people ever learn? We need those trees stop the murder now.

This is my new slogan:

WE NEED TREES – STOP THE MURDER

Norwegian Maple in my backyard with fresh new leaves.

I know I’m to love my neighbours and that’s what I’ve been trying to do. That is why I didn't flip out on him when he told me and I suffered through his tree-goon hit squad – actually it was a three goon shit squad. In the end it’s a fait-des-complete, he still murders trees and there’s not a stick on his property (okay just the ones that fall over from my place). What is a person to do? We do need the trees!

GP

Suffer the fools!

My neighbours tree on the edge of our properties.
It hangs over my house seen in the background.

To begin, people who live next to artists should not be allowed to start a chain saw until at least noon and I should have the right to go and stick that chain saw up their poxy holes when they do; maybe it could even be running as I insert it.
Good morning to you! So started this day and yesterday, with the sound of a whirring chain saw followed by a chorus of cussing and that swearing was not mine. The workman was cussing as limbs started falling in places he didn’t want them to go.

As a person who owns a landscaping company and who has worked or been surrounded by this business most of their lives, I’ve dealt with a few trees in my time. I learned from my dad that if we couldn’t fell a tree to the ground ourselves, it was better to hire a professional tree service to sub-contract the work for us. I watched my dad drop too many limbs taking out all the wires of a house before he came to this realization himself, luckily for him he never had a limb go crashing through a customer’s roof. When you’re cutting a tree between two buildings, and its limbs weigh as much as a ton, it’s better to leave it to the pros. That’s what I do.

So my neighbour doesn’t like trees and for one reason or another over these last ten years, he has had every tree cut from his property except for this last tree on his front lawn and on the edge of our properties. There were some real beautiful trees, like a huge Elm some ancient large Cherry Trees and others. I don’t know why he dislikes trees and I’ve always thought to each their own, so I haven’t harassed him or chained myself to those trees to try and stop him.

That was until yesterday when I was told he was cutting it down. In and of itself I was disappointed because this tree provides shade for our house in the summers, keeping the hot afternoon sun from our roof and it looked nice. I attempted to convince him that if he wanted to grow better grass he could prune the tree upwards, but he wanted no part of that. The tree murderer in him had a larger voice than my voice of reason.

What is distressing is that he asked a tenant who rents from him to do the job. A nice guy but a yobo nonetheless. They started their work at 8am so I quickly moved our cars before hand. The following events have been a stressful to me as they would be to any of you.

He entered this 12 to 15 metre tree with a ladder and a chain saw, no safety harness. He started sawing off limbs until he cut a large one, which took out the power and phone cables to my neighbour’s house. At that point, I started to worry. I went out and asked him to be careful. "No, no, I know what I’m doing" he replied. My neighbour who is trying to save a buck let this man do the work as he said he could save him a lot of money. Damn, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Next, I watched him tie a thin cord to a limb, while a friend held it to secure it from falling. Yes, you use a rope to take out a limb and control its fall. As he cut the limb, the 200-300 kilos of weight came bearing down on his accomplice, who while not wearing gloves, almost had his fingers jerked out of his hand by the thin cord. All this while I watched in utter horror from my study window.

Now my worries had turned to fear. This tree was being taken down by a bumbling fool and his sidekick Igor. As he took out my phone and communications cables for the internet, he could see by my alarm as I rushed out quickly to see what had happened. He realized that maybe he need some better machinery. As far as I was concerned, no machinery in the world was going to help this situation. In my opinion, he needed a brain transplant for even undertaking such a job. The worked stopped for the day.

So here, I sit today as I watch them use a $500 a day “scissor lift” rental to essentially continue their exercise in stupidity. Now I’m cussing mad and worried that at any moment the largest limb hanging over my house will come crashing through my roof onto me as I sit here and write. I’ve watched him take out more wires. Look at my picture and see the cables wrapped around the pole, yes they where attached until a short while ago. I just saw a huge limb come down and hit the corner of the neighbour’s house, denting the aluminum and tearing off the eaves trough.

I’m beside myself with worry. These bumpkins don’t have insurance so when and if the damage comes I’ll have to ask my neighbour to make the repairs. My house is the one with the sun flag and the huge Blue Spruce on the front lawn. My neighbour asked me what I thought, I asked him if he was prepared to assume the liability if someone or property was hurt. He started to look worried because he could clearly see that these were complete amateurs taking down a very difficult tree. I watched another large limb come crashing down almost taking out the streets power lines, as the chain saw blade almost made contact with his leg. I shrugged my shoulders and walked away mumbling “You get what you pay for.”

Last year I had a huge 25-metre tree taken out from my backyard as it was rotting and sitting over my studio and house. My wife and I wept at the thought of losing it but the reality was it had to go or come down on our house later in a storm. Even though I have the very best of chain saws and all the harness and safety equipment, I also have no fear of heights (respect yes) as I used to rock climb for years. I still paid a pro $1,500 to come in with a cherry picker truck and take it down piece by piece. He did a great job and it was worth the peace of mind. So far, my neighbour’s idiot worker has already spent over $500 for the scissor lift will need to spend another $ 500 tomorrow. Then there is the chain saw costs, the labour and who knows what it will cost when and if he breaks the rafters of my house. Suffer the fools!

Worst of all, we’ve lost another beautiful hardwood maple from our quaint little street. I feel guilty I didn’t go out and give it a big hug to say goodbye, it had been our friend for twenty years and at a young age of fifty was too young to die. I've kept a large portion of every tree that we've had to cut on our land and often look at it thinking of the grand old tree it used to represent. Yes I love trees who doesn't - oh yeah my neighbour.

If you ask me, why are idiots allowed to run chain saws and why can’t I stuff it up their arses when they do. That’s the problem with this country everyone thinks their a lumberjack, and they don’t care: because they wear plaid heavy cotton shirts.

Otherwise, how is your day?

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On a happy note Arsenal played the last game of the season today drubbing Everton by 7 to 0.

A rough day of it

I have had a rough day – didn’t feel well through most of it.

I looked over the last few posts and thought to myself that this is all frivolous. Am I so full of myself, that I’d think anyone would even care about “my tour of London, Canada”, let alone London, Canada? Jeez, on any day, it’s hard for me to get excited and I live here! Maybe it is my purgatory?

I just don’t feel like writing anything of note today. I have been working hard on my “How I came to know William Burroughs” text, images for eventual publication. I thought I’d give you a little sneak of a photo anyway. It’s of Bill and me in Brussels, Belgium in 1979, on our way up to Amsterdam. I’m happy with the way this project is unfolding.
Here’s the image.

Gerard Pas and William Burroughs, Brussels, Belgium; 1979.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll get up a head of steam and write something, if I don’t it’s because I’m too busy with work or I just haven’t gotten over the melancholy of today.

My dream London Studio

I guess I’m in the touring spirit so here’s another entry in my tour of London, Canada. This one is a little more self-serving as it is based on my dream of where and what I’d like my London studio to be.

PUC Substation

This building is located on Carling St., between Richmond and Talbot St. in downtown London. It is a Public Utilities Commission (PUC) substation.
I like this building not because it’s anything to write home about. I lived in Europe for too many years to be instantly impressed by a frieze, column, or cornice.
The frieze on this building is relatively standard consisting of a name carved in cement. The portico façade is nothing that will set the architectural community humming with its fake columns. The cornice work doesn’t rank with the Elgin Marbles but it is there. Altogether, it’s a formal early twentieth century building, which has been changed to fit its utilitarian function as a substation for the PUC.

Pas Sensation

So using my imagination and a little help from Photoshop, I’ve given you some of the restorations and changes I’d make to the building to make it into my London studio for both sculpture (ground floor) and painting (top floor). I liked this as a studio for several reasons: it’s downtown and not far from my house, it gets light from three directions and no southern light. It’s big enough to store finished work and give the room to work on new works. It’s independent from other buildings with its own entrance. With my changes, it would also have very large doors to move large works in and out. The street it is on is a low traffic street so I could pull a large truck up and load art without bothering others. That alone is enough reason to want it as my studio.
As you can see from the image above I’ve changed the doors on the ground floor, sandblasted the brick to a nearby colour match, and had my name chiseled into the frieze above “Pas Sensation”.
Therefore, this would be my dream studio in London, Canada. It would be nice if it looked over the Thames River just a block away but moving it is a little bigger job than my dreams and then I’d just build my complete dream studio anyway. This will do.

before and after

Now my current studio is satisfactory for clean work such as painting but sculpture must be done some place else so this would unify my work environment into one location, which is ideal for me.

Carling St. looking east to One London Place.

In closing, I’ve included a surrounding snapshot of the street in front of the building looking east towards One London Place, which I wrote about in the post below. It is on a one-block street across from a good restaurant and café “The Marienbad”. Perfect for me right now.

Okay, it doesn’t have the views of my old New York studio but then it’s not New York (click to see), it’s quiet London on the Thames, Canada. My old studio in Amsterdam during the seventies was my best studio to date with New York coming in second. If I had this as my London studio, it would definitely take third. If you came to visit me in this studio, we could bask in the light, drink coffee or single malt, and cross the street for a good meal when we had finished looking at the art.

I’ll show you my current painting studio, which I built at my home here, some other time.

Ps. Arsenal beat Liverpool 3 to 1 yesterday, which locks them as second place in the EPL and a position in next years EUFA Champions League. Good work lads - now for the FA Cup against ManUre, aka Manchester United.

One London Place

Another entry into my tour of London, Canada. It’s most certainly not for its size, next to most buildings in New York this building is small potatoes at 24 storeys high. Nevertheless, it is the largest building in London, Canada and can been seen from any angle approaching or on the outskirts of the city. I’ve marked it on the photo below just to give you a sense of how it looks on the skyline.

Skyline of London showing One London Place.
As seen from from Brescia College U.W.O. looking south.

One London Place is our newest and as mentioned largest skyscraper in London. It is located at 255 Queens St. at the corner of Wellington St., owned and operated by Sifton Properties. One London Place’s primary tenant is London Life Insurance, the people with the green lawn below and from which vantage I took the photos. As far as buildings go, it’s not a blemish and as its surface is mirrored, it often reflects the sky, which I like. Overall, it is a nice building and does have interesting architecture. I’m not going to give you a history of the building or any other details, as I’m not including this a must see site; you can see it everywhere; so you must see it whether you like it or not.

One London Place, London, Canada.

That is why I’m posting it in my tour. You see it where ever you are in London. London is primarily located in an old lake basin, carved by glaciers during ice age times. The downtown is low and the surrounding areas are elevated, as can be seen from my image above of the “skyline”. This basin effect is why it is “a must see” all over town. No biggie but that is the way it is even at 24 storeys.

One London Place or rather 4 London Places
As photographed by yours truly just 4 you.

Now this building does carry some sentiments for me as many tall buildings do around the world. When I drive into New York City (NYC) one of my favourite vistas to view is the one that opens up for me as a driver once I cross the Tri-Borough Bridge and get up on the Brooklyn Queens Expressway (BQE). Just as you drive up onto the BQE, an elevated highway, you see Manhattan open up before you looking down its length from the north to the south of the island and the Financial District. This holds special meaning to me because it means I almost home or used to be as my sister sold that house. Every time I see this view I think why have I stayed away so long as it always marks my return to NYC, even if I’ve only been gone a week.
So it is with One London Place, in coming home to my family and house here after being away. I’m driving back from wherever I’ve been and on the horizon; the first building I see is One London Place in the distance. When I see it, it means I’m home and I like that feeling. To be with my family and back in my studio here. This building always stands there heralding the fact that I’m back in London, Canada. Now there are those of us who live here that would say big deal. For me it is not so much being back in London but rather being with my loved ones and no matter where I’ve been I’m always happy to be with them.
Therefore, I included One London Place in my tour if only because were you driving back with me in my car, I’d point to it on the horizon and say, “Were home or will be in a few moments”. That is reason enough to include it in my tour. Hope you enjoy my photomontage above.

GP

postscript: Arsenal plays Liverpool today, should be a good game. Go Gunners go!

When I need to see GREEN

I thought for today, that I’d simply add to my favourite things to see in my London, Canada Tour, which I started below.

The greenest lawns in all of London Life.

This may very well be the most expensive lawn in the world or one of them anyway. It’s the lawn of one of London’s oldest corporations “London Life Insurance”. This company has its headquarters in London and its building takes up a city block. Around that building, in downtown London, is this verdant lawn. Truth is, it is more like a putting green and may very well be the largest putting green I’ve ever seen. They take such immaculate care of this lawn and it always sparkles, manicured and cut almost to the ground like a putting green; this lawn has no weeds and is always watered.
When I want to see GREEN instead of RED (click to see my red) I go down to Dufferin St. between Clarence St. and Wellington St. and stand on their lawn, looking down at the turf. Greener it does not get.

I will say that some people think it weird to have such a lawn, even avarice, but for me, I like it because I like looking at green. This lawn is an abstract, unlike a natural green forest for example. It is kind of like Bonsai, it looks natural and is made of growing things but completely controlled by the gardener or bonsai artist. Bonsai lawn if you’d like. It is most definitely rare and I’d take you to lay on it with me until the police shooed us away.

By the way, my lawns at home aren’t to shabby either. What can I say, I like GRASS; nudge, nudge, wink, wink. Enjoy Greens everyday!

London Life Insurance, London, Canada.

Postscript: I finished the draft on Burroughs last night so I thought I’d post today, don’t know about tomorrow.

I'm Beat but not as in 'nik'

The first of my backyard gardens,
closet to our deck and visible from the studio windows.

Well I am thoroughly exhausted after a hard days work at the monastery. Adorers of the Precious Blood Nuns are real taskmasters, their all betrothed. I like them; I just don’t know what they make of me.

Add to my tiredness the fact that I worked until the wee hours of the morning last night writing. I’ve been working on my current “love work”, the story of how I came to know William S. Burroughs and our escapades together. I’m beat, as in worn down and not as in ‘nik’. Funny thing is that at 50 I’m too young to have been a Beatnik, even if I’ve met most of them in my artistic sojourn, they were all 25 years older than I was.
I also am not a hippie, I consumed hippie like Beatles’ Bubble Gum cards or my Beatle Lunch Pail. That said, I do love flowers and would encourage another counterculture movement that had flowers as its focus.

Anyway, I want to finish the text on Burroughs soon, maybe even the rough draft tonight. Then I’ll work on the many photos’ I have of Bill and Beat Company to illustrate the text. Then it should be done and I’ll post a link and the info here as I intend to publish it on my website in the Memoirs Section of the Library. I hope that it will be complete in the next week. I may lay off posting here for a few days so that I can finish it.

In the meantime, I’m going to bid farewell. Hope your day was as nice climatologically as mine was (as seen above in my generic garden picture taken at 17:00hr EST)!

GP

You'll never walk alone

Liverpool fans celebrate their teams' victory over Chelsea
in the UEFA Champions League semi-final
Liverpool 1 - 0 Chelsea at Anfield Stadium last night 05-03-05.

Well it went to sleep with my toothless smile and woke up still wearing a grin after Liverpool dispatched of Chelsea from the EUFA Champions League Cup last night, at Anfield in Liverpool.

I’m a dyed in the wool Arsenal Fan (Gooner) but last night I never could have been a bigger Liverpool fan, as the Pool clinched a difficult game to remove Chelsea from the Champions League. I sat at the edge of my seat most of the second half singing along with the Pool fans hoping they could hold off their small lead to victory, which they did. When the game was over, I jumped from my seat as though my beloved Arsenal had just won the game. Thank you Liverpool for allowing me that short glimpse into the love of your team, a love I know myself first for Arsenal, then the Dutch National Side and Ajax Amsterdam. Liverpool was just great and their fans are second to none in England.

I don’t want gloat but I’ve been waiting most of this soccer season for someone to wipe that pompous grin off Jose Mourniho’s smug little GQ face. In so doing, I’m sure the Pool put a smile on many soccer fans faces throughout England and beyond. Kudos’ to the Pool for fighting the brave fight.
I harbor no resentment to the Chelsea squad as this season they’ve played well and for the most part cleanly. In Chelsea’s win of the English Premier League (EPL), I congratulate them, they deserved it. However, this game and Liverpool cutting them down a notch, humbling the arrogant Chelsea Administration was a gift; one not wasted on me. It goes to show that money can’t buy you everything, as Chelsea has seemed to think this entire season. Soccer can be such a cruel sport! Big boys don’t cry… although there were ample tears shed last night at Anfield, both of joy and disappointment as the pictures below convey.

The first thing I did was call my brother-in-law Henry (not Thierry), as I was feeling rather jiggy. He’s a big Pool fan along with other members of his family, dispersed in the Irish diasporas, around this world. We had one of those soccer male bonding things, but it’s hard to slap his arse through the telephone.

Therefore, I lifted a glass in toast of Liverpool last night, singing “You’ll never walk alone…” That is you’ll never walk alone until this coming Sunday when you play Arsenal and we drub you 4 – 0. :}~

Below are some more images from the game which I lifted from Getty Images – please don’t sue me, I’m just an artist and I’m not making any money posting them here and I have credited you.

Enjoy, I know I did.

Soccer what a sport - it truly is the beautiful game.


Big boys don't cry! It's okay, I cry all the time.

Please click on the images to enlarge.