Compiled here are images and statements from two exhibits which have
particular meaning for me:
Woven Fine
Exhibition at the Crowsnest Pass Public Art Gallery with Karen Tamminga-Paton
October 13-November 11, 2012
Fernie Arts Station
May 30 - June 26, 2013
Man was made for Joy & Woe;
And when this we rightly know
Thro' the World we safely go.
Joy & Woe are woven fine,
A Clothing for the Soul divine;
William Blake, excerpt
Auguries of Innocence
As artists still working our way through the mothering/nurturing years, we find ourselves facing the changing season of mid- life. It's a universal experience, but one that is also intensely personal. There is a melancholy in change; it can imply a going- alone as well as a leaving- behind of things and ideas we are not so connected to as we once were. Yet while melancholy wraps itself around us, threads of joy join in, weaving in colours sometimes subtle, sometimes bold and always heartbreakingly beautiful.
At this stage in our lives, we know something of Joy and Woe. Through the melancholy and even heartbreak, there is liberation in the letting- go of the myths of youth; a re-birth. We work our way along the path, taking comfort in the idea that we were made for this. There is a sense of connectedness in this knowing, and as time moves on, each experience of grief and joy gives us wisdom and weaves another thread through the "clothing for the Soul Divine."
Kari Lehr
Karen Tamminga-Paton
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Bill (or William, as he preferred to be called later in life) was my husband's brother, and in April of this year he was diagnosed with cancer. He died on August 26, 2012 at the age of 49. When Bill was diagnosed, my husband and I realized immediately that I would take on a caregiver role, as both their parents had passed on recently and Bill had no family of his own. While there was no hesitation in this regard, I did brace myself for the coming months, feeling no small amount of anxiety as I wondered how this journey with Bill would unfold.
Bill was always something of an enigma within our family- the black sheep. I had known Bill for 25 years and yet I couldn't really say that I knew him at all. He could be abrasive, obtuse, and irritatingly loud; he seemed to have an internal volume control which was always set on high. He kept himself hidden somewhat from the rest of us, steering away from conversations which leaned toward the intimate. And suddenly he and I were thrown together under one of life's most intimate of circumstances. Isn't it funny (or not) how often we write people off as one thing or another? What is it that makes us want to paint people with broad brush strokes or sum up a life in a few words? Bill was one such person for me. I tended to write him off with an impatient wave of my hand, as there had been many unsuccessful attempts over the years at (what I defined as) some sort of meaningful connection with him. But from the beginning of our time together, Bill regularly surprised me with glimpses into his true nature, which included observations that would take me aback with their sweetness or quiet thoughtfulness, as well as regular expressions of profound gratitude towards myself and all the people who came forward to help care for him. I was humbled. During our time together, I longed to sketch Bill, but I soon found out that, while he was open to the idea, he was physically incapable of sitting still or keeping quiet. The only thing that seemed to calm him was the television, |
which Bill had on for at least 16 hours a day, at a fairly high volume; it seemed to calm his restlessness. I, on the other hand, am sensitive to television noise, and so as artist and model, we were hardly compatable. I gave him a journal and asked him to write down anything that came to his mind, saying that if it were ok with him, I would use his words in a collage-portrait. He was very resistant to writing, feeling extremely self-conscious of his poor penmanship and inability to put his thoughts down on paper. The only thing he ever wrote were the words at the top of this page: "Why don't I get to live".
A week before he died, we had a family picnic with Bill to celebrate his 50th birthday which would have been on September 16. Throughout the day I stayed close to him and in the midst of all the activity he would often look at me in a way that said, "I'm done. I can't do this anymore." I took a photo of him during one of those moments, and it is from this photo that I drew and painted the following portraits. There are limitations to drawing from a photo. But, on the other hand, you have an opportunity to ponder and study a moment in time. During the two days before he died, I sat and sketched Bill; he was finally still. I loved that time with him, which was imbued with a sense of the sacred, but did not want to put those sketches into the show. Karen (Tamminga-Paton) wrote to me, " I have gone back to your sketches of him often. They are like a tender caress that breaks the heart." I loved her words, as the idea of " a tender caress" rang so true for me and what I'd felt during that most ineffable period of time. I found myself, after he had died, drawing and painting from that one photograph, going over and over the lines of his face like a caress, trying to capture different elements of the Bill I had discovered during our time together and pondering what a profound privilege it had been for me to be a part of his journey through the last months of his life.
- Kari Lehr, October 2012
A week before he died, we had a family picnic with Bill to celebrate his 50th birthday which would have been on September 16. Throughout the day I stayed close to him and in the midst of all the activity he would often look at me in a way that said, "I'm done. I can't do this anymore." I took a photo of him during one of those moments, and it is from this photo that I drew and painted the following portraits. There are limitations to drawing from a photo. But, on the other hand, you have an opportunity to ponder and study a moment in time. During the two days before he died, I sat and sketched Bill; he was finally still. I loved that time with him, which was imbued with a sense of the sacred, but did not want to put those sketches into the show. Karen (Tamminga-Paton) wrote to me, " I have gone back to your sketches of him often. They are like a tender caress that breaks the heart." I loved her words, as the idea of " a tender caress" rang so true for me and what I'd felt during that most ineffable period of time. I found myself, after he had died, drawing and painting from that one photograph, going over and over the lines of his face like a caress, trying to capture different elements of the Bill I had discovered during our time together and pondering what a profound privilege it had been for me to be a part of his journey through the last months of his life.
- Kari Lehr, October 2012
William (series #1)
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William (series #3)
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William (series #2)
12"X24" acrylic on canvas, 2012
NFS
William (series #1,2,3)
During the course of the time I spent with my brother-in-law during his illness, I longed to draw him. I asked him if he would pose for me, or failing that, I said I would draw him while he rested. It never happened, as Bill (as I always knew him) was the most restless person I ever tried to draw. He was also very self-effacing in terms of being the object of such focused attention. In the end I made do with drawing a series of sketches from a photo I took of Bill a week before he died. I was so intrigued with this particular photo because of his eyes. He could look at once childlike and world-weary. He was angry about the illness he'd fought so bravely but briefly, and had had enough. Indeed, there were times when he would catch my eye during a group visit with friends or family, and just hold my gaze, before giving his head an almost imperceptible shake. He was telling me he didn't want to fight anymore.
I tried to capture the childlike quality in his eyes in the pastel. The painting, on the other hand, was done in bold determined strokes as I thought of his anger and bold personality. The last sketch I drew as I just thought of Bill, who'd been such an enigma to me over the years, and who I was asked to journey with through the last months of his life. It was an honour and privilege. The sketch has to remain unfinished; I caught many glimpses into the man and yet in the end I was left with more questions about who he was than when the journey began.
I tried to capture the childlike quality in his eyes in the pastel. The painting, on the other hand, was done in bold determined strokes as I thought of his anger and bold personality. The last sketch I drew as I just thought of Bill, who'd been such an enigma to me over the years, and who I was asked to journey with through the last months of his life. It was an honour and privilege. The sketch has to remain unfinished; I caught many glimpses into the man and yet in the end I was left with more questions about who he was than when the journey began.
Woven Fine (series #1)
24"X24" acrylic on canvas, 2012
SOLD
Circumstance does not make the man: it reveals him to himself.
- James Allen
In April I received the news that my husband's brother was dying of cancer. Having no family of his own, my husband and I stepped in to help him through this dark journey. Having just lost my mother-in-law six months prior to this, I found myself in an unlikely new role as matriarch of a family struggling with a sense of grief and fear. Matriarch... a term I associated with the elders of family; women with more wisdom and experience than I...
Every trial we experience moves us forward in the "getting of wisdom", and like the woman in the painting, surrounded by her sisterhood of sentinels, we experience a rebirth of sorts. We find strength and courage we perhaps never knew we had.
The wisdom gained, the comfort and solace I received during this time, I now hope to pass along to the next grieving heart.
- James Allen
In April I received the news that my husband's brother was dying of cancer. Having no family of his own, my husband and I stepped in to help him through this dark journey. Having just lost my mother-in-law six months prior to this, I found myself in an unlikely new role as matriarch of a family struggling with a sense of grief and fear. Matriarch... a term I associated with the elders of family; women with more wisdom and experience than I...
Every trial we experience moves us forward in the "getting of wisdom", and like the woman in the painting, surrounded by her sisterhood of sentinels, we experience a rebirth of sorts. We find strength and courage we perhaps never knew we had.
The wisdom gained, the comfort and solace I received during this time, I now hope to pass along to the next grieving heart.
Woven Fine (series #2)
24"X36" acrylic and collage on canvas, 2012
SOLD
The quiet stillness of grief, in the midst of which is a knowing; maybe not an understanding, but a knowing that all is well.
Woven Fine (series #3)
36"X48" acrylic and collage on canvas, 2012
SOLD
"Joy and Woe are woven fine:
A clothing for the soul divine"
I love this line from the poem Auguries of Innocence by William Blake. The fabric of joy and woe are in the make-up of each and every one of us; we all have our stories to tell.
In this, the final painting of the Woven Fine series, the figure has uncurled herself, turned around and given herself over to the simple fact of the continuity of life. The darkness lifts its veil to reveal the abundance of life in its various stages:
"To every thing there is a season."
A clothing for the soul divine"
I love this line from the poem Auguries of Innocence by William Blake. The fabric of joy and woe are in the make-up of each and every one of us; we all have our stories to tell.
In this, the final painting of the Woven Fine series, the figure has uncurled herself, turned around and given herself over to the simple fact of the continuity of life. The darkness lifts its veil to reveal the abundance of life in its various stages:
"To every thing there is a season."
The Same Cloth
24"X36" acrylic and collage on canvas, 2012 SOLD
As with many couples, my husband and I are opposites in many ways. I'm not sure who is the yin and who is the yang, but together we make a compatible "whole".
There is much satisfaction in reflecting on a shared history of joy and woe. While not entirely cut from the same cloth, each trial, joy and grief we share adds another thread to our colourfully woven bond of friendship and love.
This painting is a love letter to my husband; a celebration of our shared journey and hope for more joy than woe in the years ahead.
There is much satisfaction in reflecting on a shared history of joy and woe. While not entirely cut from the same cloth, each trial, joy and grief we share adds another thread to our colourfully woven bond of friendship and love.
This painting is a love letter to my husband; a celebration of our shared journey and hope for more joy than woe in the years ahead.
Sanctum
36"X48" acrylic on canvas, 2012
SOLD
People often joke about "finding their happy place", a place which makes them feel safe and secure and removed somewhat from the worries of the world. Trees are a recurring motif in my work; it is among them that I find my happy place and a wonderful sense of connection.
There are many places which are considered sacred spaces. One such place for me is the old-growth cedar trail near Fernie. Walking along this trail, surrounded by these beautiful, age-old sentinels, one experiences a sense of stillness, timelessness and calm contentment.
There are many places which are considered sacred spaces. One such place for me is the old-growth cedar trail near Fernie. Walking along this trail, surrounded by these beautiful, age-old sentinels, one experiences a sense of stillness, timelessness and calm contentment.
Woven Fine: A Season of Change
I was very excited to be showing new imagery which continued to follow the trajectory begun with the Woven Fine show in 2012. Woven Fine: A Season of Change, ran from May 30- August 30, 2014 at the Akokiniskway Gallery in Rosebud, Alberta. Once again I teamed up with the wonderful artist Karen Tamminga-Paton.
Throughout 2014 I continued to explore my love affair with bears; a show entitled A Bear Affair, which ran from August 26 to October 6, 2014, featured several new works which can be seen on the Wild Things Series page.
Before the Dawn
30"x40" acrylic and collage on canvas, 2014
SOLD
The hummingbird brings its iridescent glow and promise of renewal to a colourless landscape. It is the symbol of the still, small voice that whispers its calm reassurance in the midst of fear.
“Faith is the song the bird sings before the dawn."
“Faith is the song the bird sings before the dawn."
Delicious Ambiguity
36"X72" (triptych, framed) acrylic and collage on canvas, 2014
$5200 (SOLD)
It is so easy to spend time in the past or future, reliving moments of pain or dreaming of a perfect future life. I came across a quote by comedienne Gilda Radner which resonated with me and from which I took the title of this piece:
" I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity."
" I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity."
Crammed With Heaven
36"X36" acrylic on canvas, 2014
$2600 (SOLD)
“Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God,
But only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round and pluck blackberries.”
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning
It is so true that the more we experience a sense of gratitude for the beauty and wonder around us, the more we bring the experience of it into our lives.
While walking a beautiful piece of land, I was struck by the persistence of life growing up and outward, even in the face of decay as the tree above blooms in one of its last seasons of life.
And every common bush afire with God,
But only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round and pluck blackberries.”
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning
It is so true that the more we experience a sense of gratitude for the beauty and wonder around us, the more we bring the experience of it into our lives.
While walking a beautiful piece of land, I was struck by the persistence of life growing up and outward, even in the face of decay as the tree above blooms in one of its last seasons of life.
Marie and Mateo
22"X22"(framed) acrylic and collage on canvas, 2014
$1200 (SOLD)
While attending a music performance in a local cafe, I couldn't take my eyes off the beautiful woman who was serving food to the patrons. She was soon to give birth and radiated a calm sense of joy and warmth. I got up the nerve to ask her to pose for me, to which she enthusiastically agreed. This was the beginning of a new acquaintance and friendship, and it also marked a joyful new focus for my art. Marie was the first of several pregnant women who graciously allowed me to photograph them so that I may work with new imagery for a solo show in 2015.
How wonderful to turn away from grief and focus on the wonder and joy of new life. This is a portrait of Marie laying on a halo of pillows, nursing her baby on a bed patterned with a motif which pays tribute to her French heritage.
How wonderful to turn away from grief and focus on the wonder and joy of new life. This is a portrait of Marie laying on a halo of pillows, nursing her baby on a bed patterned with a motif which pays tribute to her French heritage.
Roots and Wings
Acrylic and collage on ceramic torso, 2014
$850 (SOLD)
This is a companion piece to Before the Dawn. The talented potter Heather Fletcher creates beautiful clay torsos, and I had long wanted to use one as the base for a painting. I love the female form and believe wholeheartedly that female beauty lies in our strength, wisdom, resilience and grace - qualities which transform the ordinary into the extraordinary. I am fascinated by the threads of experience which weave their way through each of us, connecting us in a kind of sisterhood as we share our stories of joy and woe. I am so grateful for the many beauty-full women in my life who inspire me every day, at once grounding me and giving me courage to grow.
"In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer."
- Albert Camus
Acrylic and collage on ceramic torso, 2014
$850 (SOLD)
This is a companion piece to Before the Dawn. The talented potter Heather Fletcher creates beautiful clay torsos, and I had long wanted to use one as the base for a painting. I love the female form and believe wholeheartedly that female beauty lies in our strength, wisdom, resilience and grace - qualities which transform the ordinary into the extraordinary. I am fascinated by the threads of experience which weave their way through each of us, connecting us in a kind of sisterhood as we share our stories of joy and woe. I am so grateful for the many beauty-full women in my life who inspire me every day, at once grounding me and giving me courage to grow.
"In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer."
- Albert Camus