liquid snow instantly

We’ve had some serious flooding here. I think these images say the rest….

Nikon D300, AF-S DX Zoom-NIKKOR 18-70mm f/3.5-4.5G IF-ED
1/320 s @ f/9, ISO 200
(looking east to below images vantage)

Nikon D300, AF-S DX Zoom-NIKKOR 12-24mm f/4G IF-ED
1/300 s @ f/11, ISO 200, Aperture Priority
(looking west to above images vantage)

What you should know is that both these images were taken from the Downtown City Center of London, Canada, at the Forks of the Thames River. It is pretty rustic up here in Canada, in this city of 380,000 people, nicknamed The Forest City. I am always chasing bares from the doorway, no not bears.

Gerard

queen wasp sarcophagus

I think that the philosopher Rousseau was correct in his critique of Descartes “Critical Historical Method” (Cartesian Method) when I see this picture. Rousseau might have said, if we kill the frog to understand it in terms of science, we can’t really understand the frog in its complexity. A frog is made of more than muscle and sinew, which is all you have when it is dead and under the microscope. It jumps from lily pad to lily pad catching its food, sunning and generally doing Froggy things. Even in understanding the frog’s behavioral aspects, it may also have something unique and immeasurable such as a soul.

This dead queen wasp’s sarcophagus lies on my studio window ledge, to remind me of my own temporal existence. I had to kill this queen’s nest last summer, in order to trim a tall cedar hedge where its very large paper hive was hung. Devoid of life, its empty shell lays here collecting dust. It saddens me.
If art is catharsis then here is my celebration of this queen’s life gone by.

Nikon D300, AF-S VR Micro-NIKKOR 105mm f/2.8G IF-ED
1/60s @ f/22, ISO 200
SB800 Flash TTL-mode
cropped, CS3ext post processing, sized

_______________________
I feel better already – thank you camera and thank you lens.

Gerard

wildlife photography

I came across this beautiful Mallard Duck today while walking in Gibbons Park, London, Canada.

Nikon D300, AF-S VR Zoom-NIKKOR 70-200mm f/2.8G IF-ED
1/125s @ f/16, ISO 400, aperture priority

decay in the core

The old Capitol Theatre
London, Canada 2008

I went into to the studio here in London and seemed to have secluded myself for the better part of a decade.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve lived in New York as an artist in residence with CrossPathCulture. I’ve worked in South Africa on a major project for a few months. I’ve been to London to see the Tate Modern. I relaxed with my family in Portugal, Vermont, and Ottawa. I hiked through the beauty that is the Queen Charlotte Islands Canada (Haida Gwaii) with my wife, as well as cruising the West Coast of Canada from the border of Alaska to Vancouver. I have visited Spain and the beautiful city of Seville. My wife and daughter went to Morocco. In simple words it is not as if I locked the door of the studio and did not come out because of a Rip Van Winkle deep sleep (sleep is good).

What I mean is that while I’ve been living in London Canada, I’ve secluded myself from downtown London where I spent my youth. Sure, I’d go downtown from time to time for an exhibition, dinner or an event but I haven’t really ambled around the core streets in the daylight. Like most I’d often just drive to a suburban mall and shop there. When in New York I’d be out much of the time but here in London I very much lived like a hermit.

I went downtown today to jury a student work to receive a small prize for a 2nd year Fanshawe College exhibition. While downtown, I noticed that the much of what I loved about our centers architecture has fallen into decrepitude or changed into a post-modern nightmare of generic modern buildings none of which has any lasting beauty. It made me sad for the buildings.

I love my current job as student consultant and graduating student instructor because it took me downtown. Sadly / happily, it opened my eyes to the decay in our core.

Gerard

flowers in my studio

Hibiscus have been blooming in my studio all winter long. I'm happy with that as there is still snow on the ground outside.

Nikon D300, 105.mm f/2.8 Nikkor VR
0.8sec @ f/36, ISO 200, Focal Length 105mm
SB-800 & SB-28 Flash
tripod mounted

first day of spring not last day of winter here

Dusk at Peggy's and Marvin's

Nikon D300
18-70mm f/3.5-4.5 lens
18mm 1/5 @ f/3.5 ISO 800
Photoshop CS3 Infra-Red application

a grey day in my yard

Nikon D300, 12 - 24 mm f/4 lens,
f/8 @ 1/400, 200 ISO

new scultpure detail

A Nikon D300, 105mm f/2.8 lens,
f/3.2 @ 105mm, 200 ISO
SB800 Flash set to Auto

straight out of the camera only sized with Photoshop CS3ext

---

It's all about the glass with the camera and this is very sharp and bright lense. It's all about the desire to stop ? in the new sculpture.

This new work promises to be interesting, I'm excited by it from these macro-photo perspectives.

a new rig and glass

I bought a new rig and some new glass and thought I’d give you a photographic taste. This is the first image that I have published from this new camera and lenses. This photo is straight out of the camera except that I had to size it down for the internet. The image is a detail from one of my recent works in progress in the studio. I don’t want to show much more of the work as it still has a way to go before completion and I’m superstitious about showing unfinished work. But this post is about my new camera and lenses and not the studio.

A Nikon D300, 105mm f/2.8 lens, f/3.5 @ 105mm, 200 ISO
straight out of the camera only sized with Photoshop CS3

---

I get very intimate with my camera, as we do a lot of things together my camera and I. It is always with me; damn we even go on holidays together. I learn to love my cameras or I get rid of them. I still own every one that has been good to me from the last 35 years.

This new rig: a Nikon D300 12.3 megapixel D-SLR camera is pretty……. well it is; simply put, it is amazing. It is not necessarily the nicest camera I have ever bought as I have some nice cameras with amazing pieces of German optics but it could easily become the nicest. It is certainly the smartest camera body I’ve ever owned. This new D300 feels like it is going to be a great friend and serve me well.

Cameras are really nothing though if you don’t have some decent glass to put in front of them. I’m trying three focal lengths on this new body.

For Macro --- AF-S Micro NIKKOR 105mm f/2.8D (used in above image)
For Wide Angle --- AF-S DX Zoom NIKKOR 12-24mm f4G
For in between --- AF-S DX NIKKOR 18-70mm f3.5-4.5

All this precision made glass and this incredible camera body still need a human eye and brain to make anything-worthwhile come out of it. Without the artists mind and eye, all you’re really left with is some very, very expensive bling, bling --- but it sure makes you look good wearing it.

grass spirals

our gardens sleep but not our eyes

To Winter

Depression like winter often lasts to long for me.

A large and dirty snow bank down the street from me.

---

To Winter
by William Blake
(1757-1827)

`O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:
The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark
Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs,
Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.'

He hears me not, but o'er the yawning deep
Rides heavy; his storms are unchain'd, sheathèd
In ribbèd steel; I dare not lift mine eyes,
For he hath rear'd his sceptre o'er the world.

Lo! now the direful monster, whose skin clings
To his strong bones, strides o'er the groaning rocks:
He withers all in silence, and in his hand
Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail life.

He takes his seat upon the cliffs,--the mariner
Cries in vain. Poor little wretch, that deal'st
With storms!--till heaven smiles, and the monster
Is driv'n yelling to his caves beneath mount Hecla.

---

Gerard

say no more

Capela dos Ossos
(Chapel of Bones)

need i say more

Alcantarilha, Portugal

GP

how many lips in a tulip

never too many tulips always too many lips

G.P.

these tulips make me concupiscent

I'm Dutch izn't dat vweird.

GP

toolips, twolips, TULIPS

There's two thousand words.

GP

jerry, jerry quite contrary

crocus

narcissus

???

primula

This is how my garden grows!

GP

a great day to be a Gunner

Arsenal 2 - 0 Juventus

Champions League
Quarter Finals

Thierry Henry scores the 2nd goal for Arsenal F.C.
against Juventus — The Old Lady of Turin
(confused then click on this link)

Theirry's face says it all

kiss the crest
keep the faith
up the arse

believe

pensée

Call me Myopic.

Unfortunately one mans myopia can't be another man's foresight.

— like garbage and treasure —

bear with me

I’m very busy just now; with a public monument for the City of London as well as working in the studio. When I’m done my day of work, I don’t feel like writing more. I’ve been playing video games to relax. I’ll try to fill you in as soon as I feel like it :)

GP

Otherwise, I'm happily depressed as usual?

suddenly no more snow

I went to downtown London today to visit my accountant. This is what I saw. I noticed that one couldn't see snow for as far as the eye could see.

I know one thing my accountant didn't see it this way. You can't find your soul in a ledger sheet and that's why accountants need us artists, even if we don't make sense in arithmetic's.

This is a lofty view from the London main offices of KPMG, looking east. Well sort of.

It's what I saw in any case.

GP

where do all the birds go?

“A sad image of a dead seagull mixed into the sands on the shores of Lake Erie. I often wonder where birds go to rest their eternal peace as there are so many.”
He said reaching for his medicine.

and even more snow

more snow and more snow

winter has its own rewards

even branches reach for hEaVEN

inside and outside of the same white pine bow

white pine - inside below - outside above - white pine

a gentle snow

fairy tale of a day

Yes, wind still passes through my body; they haven’t shoveled me down into the cold earth yet! “Wind passing” is a strange metaphor don’t you think? Something not unlike having a “egg sucking good time”, which I wouldn’t recommend repeating quickly. Then again, that wind is passing through my ears.

I’ve been very busy working on an honourable project for this community. It is something I believe in and which if realized, I hope will have real aesthetic beauty. It has taken most of my time these last two weeks

So, while I haven’t been writing, I was thinking of you mum as well as the other two readers of this blog. I hope your having a swinging time.

I went out today and photographed this image looking into our neighbour’s backyard. If you look carefully under the seat, you’ll see rabbit tracks heading towards you. It was a very tale of a day today or is that a fairy tale of a day today.
I have many beautiful images from today; I will try to post a few over the next days.

I love the solitude in this image, with the swing seat covered in snow and only rabbit tracks underneath. I may be going local?

GP

my dream new york studio

It’s often an exercise in futility but the seed of imagination can be fun. No not creativity but rather the daydream.

What if? What if I could cure a disease, bring peace to an area in turmoil, feed more people, and discover a cool eco-tool that would make the world a cleaner place. These of course are all the good sides of daydreaming ‘what if’.

The futile side of ‘what if’ is just a little more vainglorious. My father in law Nick once told me an interesting story based on it. Two Russian peasants on a long journey, stop to rest and start to discuss how great it would be to have a colt. They discuss each individual’s aspiration for this colt and this causes them to fight because their dreams are so radically different. To fight over an imaginary colt that neither have? Funny thing, the human condition.

From time to time, I have these later daydreams. I have a nice fast car but when I’m next to a nicer faster car I daydream that “Wouldn’t I enjoy that car more than my own”. You get the point.
Not the deadly sin of lust, or jealousy, just the seed of it in ‘what if’. The same sense aroused in any of us who may buy lottery tickets. If I had a million dollars, I’d buy… The momentary dream of how life will be different if you win the ‘big one’. Of course, it’s just another tax implemented by the government on the poor. But it only cost a buck or two for the dream, and it can last until you check your numbers after the draw. It sells so well that these days every level of government is in on the game and revenues it generates for the state. But enough of that… Funny thing, the human condition.

Well I got me one of those little daydreams and it’s called my ideal studio. I’ve posted on this topic once before “My Dream London Studio”. Well this is my second installment.

My dream studio in New York City is not in Manhattan. I know this goes against many successful New Yorkers principles, one stays in Manhattan, Soho, Chelsea, Tribeca. I figure, success means you can live and work where you so desire. So, my dream New York studio is out in the Red Hook section of Brooklyn. It sits on the Hudson River as it ventures out into the Verrazano Narrows and flows out to the Atlantic. You can see the large ocean going ships and the tugs coming and going, to be reminded of destinations far away or coming home. It brings out the Amsterdammer in me, living by the canals, the North Sea and the Markermeer. Standing at Hoek van Holland and watching the large ships leave the harbours of Rotterdam. It’s a very comforting place and even has the touch of Dutch architecture from the 1800’s. The studio is at the very far right of this picture below.

my dream New York studio - click for enlargement :)~

From this vantage, you can see across the waters to lower Manhattan to the left of the studio. From there to the left, you can see Jersey City, then the Statue of Liberty, on to harbour terminals in New Jersey and the tip of Staten Island. Sadly, you can’t see the incredible Verrazano Narrows Bridge, crossing from New York to New Jersey; it’s one of my favourite New York bridges. I just love this location. To my Manhattan friends all I can say its closer to you than Staten Island, there is lots of room to stay over and I always keep a fresh bottle of Single Malt Whiskey on hand. Wait there’s one other New York idiosyncrasy, there is ample room to park, or moor your vessel for that matter. The cops are nearby for security and it has a beach. Okay, I lied but it does have a ladder.
Just look below at the front view it is stunning. The first change will be the name of course!

my dream New York studio

Now I’ve had a beautiful New York studio with some incredible views, which is discussed and depicted on my website “Gerard’s Studio in New York”. This studio is different because this one is my dream studio. What, do you want to fight?

Funny thing, the human condition is.

GP

rot and decay - life and death

rot and decay

For the first time since November, we have been able to see the ground instead of snow. It seems that every January or late December we have a thaw, bringing temperatures up to the high of 0 -- 5 Celsius during the day. The warm temperatures accompanied by a few steady days of rain have melted the 25 cm of snow that still covered the earth. It looks like late-fall again, rather glum and dark.

Trying to make the best of it, I planted the last of our early tulip bulbs in the moist ground, as I hadn’t gotten to them before the first serious snow fell. That snow has been with us until now; this was a very good day to put those bulbs in, giving them enough time to be frosted before spring.
As I walked by our big stand of maple trees, I looked down to see the earth covered with its blanket of rotting leaves. It was a metaphor of decay, calling out to ponder on the question of ‘death’. It remains a mystery to me as I have yet to existentially cross that threshold.
I really must change my medications with all these moribund thoughts?

a carpet of decay

The Merriam Webster dictionary describes Death as:
1 : a permanent cessation of all vital functions : the end of life -- compare BRAIN DEATH
2 : the cause or occasion of loss of life
3 capitalized : the destroyer of life represented usually as a skeleton with a scythe
4 : the state of being dead :(
5 a : the passing or destruction of something inanimate (the death of modernism)

Wow that’s some serious shite. The “state of being dead” seems to be a permanent thing.
If you consider the cosmology of existence as presented by our current Cartesian thinkers and scientists, it seems that in our modern time the saying from “dust to dust” should be expressed as from “nothing to nothingness”. I think that their meaning of nothingness needs to be redefined. It was once described to me as: draw a circle and call what falls outside it ‘nothing’, death is the erasure of that circle. Complete and absolute nothingness.

life and death

The more I meditate on death the more I become convinced that it is an abnormality of existence. By that I don’t mean not part of existence but rather an aberration in it. Like knowing, something is wrong by seeing the “strings of code” float by on the monitor of the “Matrix” just after the “smith virus” starts to copy/multiply itself. It just doesn’t feel right to think the “circles erasure” is the culmination of life - nothingness. I won’t even go to the next logical plateau, predicated on the aforementioned premise and ask if this is death, what is the purpose of life. I think Sartre said it best in his book “Being and Nothingness”.

When I look out at the forest floor and I see the decaying leaves rotting in this damp of winter, I do not see signs of permanence. To the contrary, I see signs of a cycle of life. I believe that nature talks to us, pointing to underlying truths about the reality we all share in common.
When I visit the “corpus” of a deceased friend or family member, I get this overwhelming feeling that this is not a farewell. I see it more as the French do when they say “Adieu” (until we meet with God) instead of “salute” or goodbye.

It is all a theory because I have never met someone who was dead and rose again to tell me. By dead, I mean for a few days or psychical death. That said I find the outworking of how death is described by Saint Paul to make the most sense to me. Death is the result of sin and sin is an aberration in the matrix of life, otherwise put as “the fall brought by sin”.

Romans 6:23 For the wages of sin is death,...

I just can’t wrap my mind around the idea that death is just another meaningless point in the life of organic matter. Using the “scientific methods model”, the very fact I cannot comprehend it must mean something. I am therefore I think, as opposed to I think I am therefore I am. I am assuming that we all agree that the purpose of life is not death; the purpose of life is love. Death continues to seem out of place.

I guess what I’m really saying is that life is the grandest and most treasured way of expressing love. Love of another, a vocation, expression, the means to achieve good for this “fallen world” through love.
Sin would be best described as “the seven deadly sins” 1. Greed 2. Gluttony 3. Envy 4. Sloth 5. Pride 6. Lust 7. Wrath; all of which do not in anyway root themselves in love -- except for maybe self-love which is an oxymoron, Narcissus says it better.

In taking Paul’s description of “death” and “life” as praxis, it changes the whole way which you view reality.

1 Corinthians 15: 54-56
54When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: "Death has been swallowed up in victory."[a] 55"Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?"[b] 56The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law.

Though death still has great fear with me, it is more a sign of my lack of faith than what I know I should trust. Death is an enemy and an abnormality in existence. It is the harvest of sin but not life. When I have these fears, like a mantra, I remind myself:
1 Corinthians 15: 24-26
24Then the end will come, when he hands over the kingdom to God the Father after he has destroyed all dominion, authority and power. 25For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. 26The last enemy to be destroyed is death.

Even walking amongst the stench and decay on the forest floor it speaks to me that:
2 Corinthians 2: 15-17
15For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. 16To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life. And who is equal to such a task?
2 Corinthians 4: 11-12
11For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body. 12So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.

As I look down, I am comforted to know that life is at work in me, suddenly all is right with the world or my frame of mind anyway.

This beautiful carpet of wet soggy leaves screams meaning at me as doe’s death; life is meaningful, as is death. I will always choose life.

Then I turned my head towards the Buddha and saw that the lichens, fungus and moss where happy. Then again, this Buddha always wears a smile in a way that ceramic things do. I left for the house seeing spirals of green and red and thinking that this would be a good first post for the new years.

Death where is your victory, death where is your sting?
Happy New Years, happy life, may you be blessed in this year to come.

GP

knocking down the pins

Bowling?

Man has bowling changed since I last went. The squeeze, da progeny, and I went bowling on Boxing Day.

It was kinda fun and I was amazed by just how much bowling had changed.

Sadly, gone are the days of The Big Lebowski, with The Dude polishing his ball in a linen towel. Those were the days!

It has become a freak show of over indulgence: short film clips digitally projected on numerous screens at the “pin” end of the lanes. Black lit lanes where neon coloured illuminated balls roll down lanes, which can be automatically programmed to give each individual players various preferences, such as bumpers, computerized coaches, etc. I do like automated score keeping! 15 of us went and played 2 games each using two lanes for approximately 2hrs and 15 min for a cost of CDN $95. With Sarsaparilla drinks and some small snacks throw in an other CDN $60-90 bucks.
Now with all that potential, you’d think they program the LCD projectors to show clips of movies like that masterpiece movie by the Coen brothers mentioned above. No funny clips of Jackie Gleeson’s bowling on the Honeymooners. A series of vapid and ephemeral clips, which made you think you were watching Sesame Street over your toddlers back or MTV hits clips today.

Poster Images from the Lebowski Fest

There wre no images or posters from the “Dudireno” Lebowski Fest in New York, not even a still from Gutterball. Just the same monotonous fill of images which we see every day and could pave the way from Columbus Circle to the Brooklyn Bridge in New York, so mindless we can’t remember a one.

This electrified environment, with the comforting sounds of pins falling and the smack of balls pounding wood, was then augmented by the shrill call of popular top 10 hits amplified to the sound of a private jet revving up on the runway of Trenton Airport, NJ. Is there such a thing as bowling music? If no, then how about the Blues?

That said, I’m no stick in the mud and I did find a way of enjoying myself in the company of friends and loved ones. It’s still bowling and what’s not to like about sticking three fingers in a heavy acrylic ball, forcing it to roll down a hardwood lane to knock down a set of 10 pins. Damn I had to find some joy there because my score totals sucked so bad I’m still hearing the passing of wind through my ears.

It seems like an appropriate way for me to post my last post of 2005, talking about bowling. A noble sport and short of joining a league, I think I may start a quest to find “the perfect bowling alley”, then again, maybe I won’t, but I can dream about it.

So in closing why not take this quiz: Which Big Lebowski Character Are You. I did.

Happy old year my friends, see you in the new one. So now, I’m not thinking of balls but sinking apples, or is that raising apples.

GP

________________

This one’s for you Chris A. we must go bowling someday, yes!

merry christmas - light in the darkness

Christmas eye candy
from our gardens

In these the darkest days of the year, I am reminded that light shines in the darkness.

I look outside my studio and see our gardens in their winter sleep, waiting for the return of spring. So to has my life been this last year, a gentle sleep as my fields laid fallow waiting for a new spring.
As I turned fifty, I have arrived at a point in my life where I feel that I can now create what I wish, not to prove myself to anyone or even myself. I have been set free from the need to demonstrate my skill to curators, critics, society, or museums. I have already proven myself time and time again over the last thirty years of making art -- it has given me such great pleasure (as paradoxical as that may seem for an artist that has dealt mostly with pain and catharsis in their work).
One would think this a liberating experience, which it is. Sadly, I have spent the last year transfixed on those lights shinning out of the darkness, heading towards me as I stand on this highway of life. A difficult and at times perplexing time in my life as I ask myself what I really want, like a child in a candy shop.
I am happy to say that the light, which hastened towards me on that dark road, was not my demise. Rather, like the star that directed the Magi it was coming to take me home. It is where I am now and as I reluctantly embrace this newfound freedom trusting it to be true. I hope this to be a very productive and liberating year. May we all remain so directed guided by that light...

So many of you have stood behind me in these troubling times but none more than our God and my family -- my cup runneth over. I am so grateful to all of you for having such faith in me. I wish the same blessings for you and yours: a paradigm shift where love is the axis of change and integrity remains true.

From me and mine, we hope that love rules in your abode and that your wants and needs will be met in this New Year to come.
Thank you for blessing us with your friendship and support!

May the God of love bless you with faith, trust and love - Allah hum di de la.

Gerard Pas

Note: the above image is a compilation from the more than 10,000 photographs I took from our gardens this past year. I organized them in this pattern to create an “Eye Trick”, if you stare long enough the white dots suddenly turn black / grey and back to white — light shinning in the darkness.

i will always choose life

downtown London looking east from
the East Branch Fork of the Thames River

London usually gets about 51 cm. of snow in the month of December. It is only two weeks into the month and we’ve already received 47 cm. It has snowed almost everyday this month. I’ve shoveled a shite load of snow out of our driveway. We have long icicles hanging on almost every house on this dead end that I live on.

I like living on a dead end, if not for the apparent reasons such as very little traffic, for the power of using it as a metaphor. I live on a dead end and it is a dead end. “No Exits” are oxymoron’s, so while our dead end has a “No Exit” sign placed at its entrance there of course is an exit, being the same entrance which ones comes in on. I therefore could not live on a “No Exit” street; rather it is simply a dead end.

Now this dead end runs into a large recreational park, which has tennis courts, basketball hoops, soccer fields a fully enclosed and all year permanent ice rinks. So in fact, our dead end runs into a living beginning, which in a poetic sense makes sense for me -- dead end—living start. I like living on the edge.

I continually look for where the road really dies and haven’t found it yet but I see, hear, and smell the living start every day. I will always choose life but love living on a dead end. There are times that I feel living on this dead end, that there is no exist, which I call my Jean Paul Sartre times. Then I remind myself I’m living on a dead end and not yet dying on one. The again maybe I am and or will die on a dead end which will indeed be the end as I will be dead.

However, I will always choose life.

this image is by Steve Jenereaux

GP

Thames River levy

Downtown London looking east from the Westside of the Thames River Levy.To the far left is the historic Blackfriars Bridge. In the distant right is the Queens St. Bridge. Harris Park is directly across the river with downtown in the background extending to the far right.

180º panorama of downtown London from the Thames River levy

detail of the Blackfriars Bridge from above panorama

Just another grey day in the late afternoon before another snowstorm hits us later this evening. The Thames River is not yet frozen. As a teenager I used to cross the river on the ice to get downtown.

GP