The sky is painted with crimson brush strokes, as the winds of haste fade to calm. Take pause from tasks that hinder your soul, and reflect on your growth and achievements. Know you have made a difference in the world in quiet and subtle ways. In ways that are hidden in the warm mist far from turmoil of the surface waves. Be still and absorb the rejuvenating spirit of sunset breezes.
Back to the Artwork pageThe sky is painted with crimson brush strokes, as the winds of haste fade to calm. Take pause from tasks that hinder your soul, and reflect on your growth and achievements. Know you have made a difference in the world in quiet and subtle ways. In ways that are hidden in the warm mist far from turmoil of the surface waves. Be still and absorb the rejuvenating spirit of sunset breezes.
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When approaching Algonquin, the quiet hush of nature begins its descent upon me. I feel the ever increasing distance from stress, noise, pavement and concrete. The layers of life’s hectic pace are replaced by nature’s serenity as I approach Algonquin.
Look below the surface and discover a world unknown to those who pass by in haste. Skimming over life’s tapestry rewards few, but searching and opening oneself to self-discovery and endless possibilities enrich the souls of those who dare to challenge expected norms. Seek what moves below still waters, and discover the networks and catacombs that past generations have entrusted to us. Protect the creatures who inhabit these dark and mysterious pools from those who see them only as wastelands to be drained for profit. Truly open your senses to the secrets of the wetlands.
A man weaves tales of this land through poetry and song. Senses are awakened by images of past glory, as well as those of immeasurable pain. Challenges are whispered, to all who will listen, from frail limbs and foreboding eyes. Chanie Wenjack’s secret path jolts us into uncomfortable realizations of historical disconnects, and untold misery on the tip of a Raven’s wing. Pearls of wisdom, spoken by a sister, seek a different world through truth and reconciliation. We are all connected to someone, as Gord is to Chanie. Follow the examples of those who came before us, and seek the strength to facilitate change. Let us dance for healing under the moonlight on ashes of love. All is possible with the promise and power of courage.
I hear the world differently than you. Visual cues present themselves, and guide me in ways unknown to most. I hear rustling leaves through oscillating shimmer, as they dance to an East wind’s command. The splash of a Northern Pike delights me, as ripples radiate then fade to still waters. A loon’s crimson eyes rise and fall in royal splendour, as its lonely call brushes my soul. Night falls as ashen shadows and azure skies cloak reflective silence. All who bear witness unite in my world. I am not alone in the presence of the night birch.
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