pretty and hanging

This little heart is now posted in my Etsy shop. Simple folky and nice. A moth with 2 large eyes staring back at us! I like the theme of eyes imitated by nature: the pretend-eyes and the real-eyes never encountering one-another. Fierce Warrior Eyes. Gods' eyes.... Demon's eyes...

Beautiful Being

The same creature as in the previous post... but through my camera.

While in Cannes

While in France, I made a few feeble attempts to paint, and even though my main source of inspiration is the Boreal Forest, from which I was, in fact, very far, nevertheless this little sketch emerged of a beautiful mediteranean pine tree on St Marguerite Island that reminded me of the trees painted by Tom Tomson of the group of Seven. I loved the shadows on the trunk especially.

Hope you'll find it worthy.

Art and things...

You thought I had given up, given up hope and lost my creative superpowers. no. They were asleep while I was battling various small demons That I compassionately convinced to abandon their vain efforts to discourage me. It simply can't be done. I walked back home skipping the street car ride twice yesterday and today, and, refreshed by the dubious air, the sound of the needy fetching a slice of vicarious excitement in the eyes of singers and media gurus on Dundas square ; reached my home an-impeached and started to paint. Can this BE? ...Yes.

Back Home

I flew back home this Monday. Sitting in the plane beside me was the most adorable couple I can think of, a mom and dad whose grown up kids had gotten together and bought them a package tour to Canada, the one place in the world they always had dreamed of visiting. She was very emotional when the plane lifted in Paris, then we talked during the flight. So sweet, so genuine. They warmed my heart, when that happens, I usually have to fight back tears myself, for that is my great curse, though a blessing too! I ran both in my head and on my camera (so nice to be able to do that!) all the wonderful images of my 2 weeks trip to France. So many.

flying off to a better world

This world is mean, this world is unkind. My wallet was stolen in a middle of a move, just before I leave to see my family, making my last week here hell... I'm exhausted from running around everywhere, my soul feels wretched... I am running to my mummy!

Here is a little poem dedicated to the petty thief:

"...The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonored, and unsung..."

Breathes There the Man / Sir Walter Scott

first night...

Exhausted from the move and the brutal storm that hit Toronto, I spent the 1st night in my new hobbit hole and lay down there in the dark, listening to the unfamiliar noise, covered with deeper darkness than I am used to, seeing the pale glow of the kitchen window from my bed. I felt strange, almost unwelcome, but excited at the same time. Wanting to belong there, feeling the energy of the house, the air outside, the criters of the night... I have found a true home at last, something that feels like me! both ominous and wonderful. I wondered if the house has ghosts, if people who lived there before me were happy. Who were they, did they love it like I do?

Many unanswerable questions!

new home sweet new home!

Here it is! the 1st picture of my new home: The door knob of the kitchen door to the garden. Lovely is it not? So old and ragged. So much character! It has everything going for it... I mean the whole apartment ; not just the door knob. Moving in next week!

There's more pictures on my Flickr page at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/23853846@N06/