Posts tagged ‘travel’

Early Summer 2020

the mad goings on over here in the slab are forever, 24 and 7, and in every direction. we’re in here thick and surrounded. but there is a place! and we have the good fortune of the ways and means of blasting our way out.

the front lawn in early June 2020

i know it’s a mess but this is what happens when my boots are not on that ground. that lawn, given my free hand, can look like this!

nice work: lawn care by yours truly, from a long ago August evening
Ten Mile Point at Sunrise

as usual on a Friday in June i hit the office from 9 to 5 and then started out on the road home around 8 p.m. i had to pull over and see the moon, the moonlight, the stars and smell the glorious things in the deep dark woods between Deep River and Mattawa, after midnight. AND hear the far away sounds: frog songs a thousand yards away. a bird at night. but on this trip, no far off train rattling through the wilderness. it was just me and things mentioned. absolutely everything i asked for. what glorious moments. i turn that 8 hour drive into 12 hours and so arrived at sunrise: Ten Mile Point, on Manitoulin Island, and saw this! wowza!

waiting for the full moon on June 6th

the grand lady of the house was having a party and so it was a busy scene up there in the crib: cooking, mostly. me doing most of the cooking of K but here is the scene after sunset: waiting for the full moon, the Strawberry Moon too! if you know the story there is real reason to go out there and celebrate. which of course is what we were doing! (by this point in time i was working on 2 hours of sleep in the past 2 days!)

good old blue eyes

this is one of the cats the folks rescued and old UE seems to be settling in, going on several years now. you might remember the story of when he/she first arrived on the range, autumn ages ago. i was sitting at my dining table around 6 p.m. in early September and saw something white at the very top of a far away tree to the east. there were ravens and crows circling the tree and i wondered what in the what the is up there? yup! it was UE up there, as a kitten, trying out his/her new jungle claws. the way i saw it: if you can find your way up there, you can find your way down, and so never called the local fire dept. (i’ll see if i can find that photo to share with you.)

UE is one of 4 cats on the range

they’re living the good life out there: lots of birds and mice to harvest and who knows what all else…

there she is: running with or without us…

i hope to get back to this again like i have in the past: 8 weeks of sun worship and thanksgiving. July and August on the range, how lucky i have been in the past to be there and see it for 60 days!

Shell with her new Eagle Feather

that’s her office up there on the hill and she’s got a brand new eagle feather in her hand. Sunday morning with the clock ticking: we had just a few hours to go before the bug out: back to the cities. a bit of a bluesy thought: we get home and like any sane person: why would you want to leave? truth is you don’t want to leave a paradise on earth but… that is the way of it for now.

found poetry, repurposed book 5: fun stuff!

That Weekend at the Cottage, No. 6. it is a run on poem in this repurposed book, turned into fun stuff, art journal, diary, mad house, spooksville, and general issue hub bub ranging from late December last year to now, and with a hundred pages to go, likely into somewheres in July. for more info on the repurposed book/art journal visit the twinravens youtube channel.

and so the world’s people have gone mad. or at least 50% of them. but the world goes along without us. i was down at South Baymouth on Sunday morning and the old drunken sailor we saw there at 7 a.m. said the water in Lake Huron hasn’t been that high in 20 years! well i’m an old sailor too and i said: 25…

(i was there to see it!)

yes this old world doesn’t need us crazy humans to get along. with that in mind, i have my acoustic guitar tuned to play Led Zep’s “That’s the Way” and since my sweet Jazzy Moon is out on her first sleep over in over 3 flipping months, it is just me here which means i can get that big old acoustic rumbling and see if my voice is wiggly enough for my best Robert Plant! one more Warsteiner should loosen the rig and get the wiggly we need to play such a thing.

i won’t share with you my version of “That’s the Way” so here is the real deal off LZ3.

Art school sound track

(better put the headphones on for this one!)

Life in the Big City No. 3-02-23-020

i’m on the swanky 9th at sunrise, Sunday morning, life on the road: artist doing that art sales thing.  up for grabs:

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Power Bird, acrylic on gallery canvas, 24×36″, by anishnabe artist Mark Seabrook.

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Bear Clan Power, acrylic on gallery canvas, 24×36″, by anishnabe artist Mark Seabrook.

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Power Bird: Body, Mind, Spirit, acrylic on gallery canvas, 24×36″, by anishnabe artist Mark Seabrook.

needless to say: with each finished painting we’re getting closer to the end our days with Stevenson paint.  yikes.

Friday afternoon i called up all the art supplies stores in Toronto asking: do you have any Stevenson acrylic?

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Articulations on Dundas W. had a few stragglers so i snapped those up on Saturday afternoon, knowing full well it could be the last of the Stevenson in the whole city!

while on Dundas, thought i would take a ride down to the AGO.  tis an entertaining drive with many kooky scenes along the way, as seen from the cosy confines of my new car.  the new car wiggles down those streets no problems, but out there on the big four lanes: there is nothing under the hood…

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look up there:  that’s someone’s crib!  talk about a room with a view!  that photo is taken from the corner of McCaul and Dundas, directly behind me is the AGO.  beauty sunny day for a stroll through the mad jungles!

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the club on McCaul, just up the street from the AGO.  love that club name.  hey!  we’ll have to go there sometime in the summer.

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directly across the street from the Sin and Redemption club!  ha ha!  nice work boys.

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“That Weekend @ the Cottage”, Found poetry Book 5, a work in progress.  i’m having a fun go of it with book 5, and as always using that “love” theme, “wild sex” theme and of course: “memory lane” theme, to tell wild stories of passion, sexual adventure, and love tossed.  loving too, the “Weekend at the Cottage” idea as we surely have spent a few!  sweet and sexy x 3.  for more on the Found Poetry idea, scroll through the blog, we have a few fun entries going on about the idea.

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crafty ideas:  that is a Dollarama box (4 bucks), ball point pen and sharpie marker, artwork by Mark Seabrook.  we’re always looking for bright ideas for the art making workshops that we conduct, art making for folks who think they have no artistic abilities.  well we at twinravens art schools surely put that idea to the test!  this little project came together in a short 50 minutes, radio playing in the background.  folks around the table called it a “memory box” while others said it could be used for a “traditional medicines place”.  however you use it, you can personalize it quickly without creating a mess on your table top!

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memory box/medicine keeper box top: art work by Mark Seabrook.  also in the shot:  Book 5, Found Poetry.  in our art making workshops we like to keep the participants hands busy!  strawberry smoothie in the background: try to stay healthy…

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the arts and crafts table:  memory box in back, Found Poetry Book 5 in front.  you don’t need a bunch of swanky and expensive art supplies to have some fun with us!  twinravens brand art making workshops are for everyone anywhere at anytime!

 

Saturday Night Blizzard!

Well maybe it “aint no” blizzard like the folks in NFLD whooped through in the past 24 hours but here in O’sville, outside, now, 6 p.m., it aint pretty.  And it IS ice Flipping cold!  that is why I’m tucked away in here, in the crib, with the fake fire going, fake fireplace on the TV, 2D logs burning bright, warm as toast, snug as a bug, nestled up next to a Henschke Cyril Henschke Cab slash Sauv slash Franc slash Mer mixarama.  The folks are pitching it as extra dry but I’m telling you right now its twice the sweet as I like them.  Ah well.  It IS a snow storm out there.  And those Australian Vins on a cold winter night are something to write home about.  I’d write home if I had one…

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And so!  It IS a blizzard, I’m in for the evening with the vin and a book.  Thought I’d re read the “CLASSIC HORROR STORY” by kooky Sinclair Ross:  The Painted Door.  Of course when I was sporting, many moons ago, we’d make that trip, a mile anyway…

Things have changed since then.  Now, as an old man, we don’t need to wade through classic Canadian horror stories as we have enough of them stowed in our own story telling departments: if it were a library, a mighty library it would be as some of us did!  I was reminded of that when I crossed paths with an old soldier today:  same age as me!  We laughed and cackled our way through stories about the ages, old names, old places, now all dead and gone.  Yet we remain: Two Anishnabe, from the same year, many times in the same places, with the same people, yet never crossing paths until today.  Slick stuff.

We got to that story sharing place where I told him about that night at the International on Kathleen Street, N’Swakamok, summer of 1995:  I was in there with one of the killers, as back up.  He was in there looking for someone but he never told me why he was looking for this person.  We sat ourselves down at a table and ordered drinks and pretty soon this young Anishnabe dude came along and sat himself down at our table.  This dude knew the killer and they were chatting up a storm, going on about “stuff”.  Well I’d heard enough after about 20 seconds and said to the killer:  Is this the guy?

As I said that I was reaching inside my coat with my right hand and the dude FREAKED!  He put his hands up right away and said Hey Man!  I didn’t do anything!

Of course he was right.  I was just reaching into my coat pocket to get my cigarettes, to see if he wanted a Marlboro Red.  Back in those days you could smoke in the bar.  It was kooky to see though how that dude nearly shit his pants when I did that.  Ha ha.

It has been one of those winter days.  Cool too though when you cross paths with folks of the same vintage.

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Girl From the North Country, Found Poetry, Book 5, a work in progress.  Drawing by Mark Seabrook, Anishnabe artist.  Truth is I have NOT been drawing over the past few or several years and…  They were right.  It does go away if you don’t keep at it.

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Anishnabe Kwe, Found Poetry, book 5.  So yes, we’re still working at it.  The book is 400 plus pages and the story is INSANE!!!  So we’re mostly painting over the pages of text and making this one into a book of drawings.  There are a few poems in there but not as many as in the past books.  The drawing practice has been good for this old boy.

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Ed Hopper at the MET.  Remember how I was going on about that meltdown at the MET, back in December?  Well here we are a long way from, and here they are in no particular order, the paintings that brought on the meltdown…

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Have mercy.  You can read a ton of books about this one but when you’re standing where he once stood:  the same distance away I mean, there is a fine line between living out your dream and shitting your pants on the NY subway.

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Good Wowza.  If you are a visual artist, and you walk into a room and see this…  Well lets just say this:  I was in there looking at this and wondered if maybe it might have been better had I been KIA in the Great Hay Wagon Disaster of 78.  (If you don’t know what that is, scroll back through a few blog postings…  )

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Good Gawd!  Anyone out there reading this:  are you a painter?

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Jeepers H. Mary and M.F. Joe!  You read about it.  You see a small picture in an art history book text.  But then there it is.  Wowza x 2.

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Stop.  Stand.  And Stare.  Holy chocolate wagon wheels someone actually created this with their bare hands…  (Q. And what am I doing?  A.  A GREAT BIG FAT NOTHING.)

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OFMFGF.  We went over this in art school for days.  Detailing it, went over it, shoulder to shoulder on our hands and knees, going over every inch of the details with an extremely powerful art history instructor.

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Yup!  I was nearly a sobbing wreck by this point.  Just like that time I watched the first 5 minutes of the movie:  UP.

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Okay.  No words.  There it is.

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Have mercy!

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Absolute melting point:  if you’re an art enthusiast and dreaming…  If you see something like this, in the MET, after all these years…   (Well lets just say it will be the crows nest for me.)

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Here though:  something turned.  I may have rounded a corner with this one.

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Stopped and stared.  Imagined Mr. R. standing there too, cigarettes in hand…  ages ago.

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K.M. in his gear, making the presentation on Thursday night to a darn near a sold out show.  He had his book, getting his words straight, but what I was worried about is that he was going to fall off those great big high heels he was wearing!  He didn’t fall off his shoes and it was a great performance, and a great show:  glad to be there and see it first hand.  That painting of course, if you scroll back through the blog, you’ll  see it up close, from that night long ago…

And so the snow storm continues.

alone at Carter's Bay in a long ago summer time

alone at Carter’s Bay in a long ago summer time

I dream about the beaches back home: the wind and the waves, the sun, the earth, the sky.  The blue and green.  And yes:  The sienna, the gold and silver.

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Oh la la!  There will be time to get back to those water falls and that river where I call home.  I usually travel at night.  I’ll arrive at sunrise!

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When you live a bit, silly things like a snow storm are nothing.  Rooms in a house, the “Famous Cockroach Incident”, a thousand mile drive at a hundred miles an hour, the summer of 1995, the lawns between her house and mine at age 12, her red jacket…

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I’ve got a home waiting for me.  Yes I’m the road now but I’ll be home soon.  For now though, we have the art, the road, the snow storm, the flash Australian Vin, and the stuff not worth mentioning out the front window, the back window and the side windows:  life i the city in mid January.

Keep on keeping ON!

 

 

At the MET, New York City

After Thursday’s serious meltdown cruise through the Modern and Contemporary Art rooms, the European Paintings 1250 to 1800, and the 19th and Early 20th Century European Paintings and Sculptures (that’s the room that did it on Thursday…  ) I took the evening off, swam around with a few of the local suds, and pondered the almighty: why? (So dumb!!!)

Fresh as a spring rain, I went back in for a 2nd look, Friday morning and made it to around 3 p.m. before the inevitable happened yet again.

I’ll get to the paintings when we have more time, today we’re bugging out, but I had to share a few of the super heavy 3D items I saw along the way.

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Love those shoes:  German bizz, tucked inside a glass case.

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Prisoners of war:  Shield, Standing Rock Rez, c. 1885, Joseph No Two Horns, Hunkpapa Lakota/Teton Sioux, 1852-1942.  Also tucked inside a glass case.

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Fun boy:  that’s nice work in the lighting department!

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This one reminded me of the good old days:  summers back home on the shores of Lake Mindemoya, back when I was young and my heart was an open book…  (oh my goodness how I was an exhibitionist back in those days…  )(ha!)

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This is the one that did it for me:  Stole the Show!  Winter, Bronze, Jean Antoine Houdon, 1741-1828, French, (Paris), 1787.  This one stopped me in my tracks in the same way Brancusi’s Bird in Space (1923) did.  I walked around this magic for almost an hour.

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I have no words.

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Wow.  That is the best I can do for now.

So hey.  I’m being told that it is time to GO!  Time to get back in the limo and hit the open road!  We’re going back by way of Buffalo, hopefully to see what we missed when we rolled into town (it was dark).  Looks like a great day for a drive.  We’ll chat with you at the other end!

In peace.

 

 

Walking 5th Ave, New York City

What a day: started at Time Square via the subway and the info lady over there replied: the Met?  Oh my goodness that’s 40 blocks from here, you’ll never make it!  But I checked the over head on Google and it was reported at a measly 2 miles away.  That aint nothin!  So I started out, wearing my HBC CANADA hoodie, advertising.

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Heavy duty Charles Scribner’s and Sons on 5th and East 48th: I thought about the wild writer characters who walked in and out that joint, in days of old.

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Super heavy duty spook house on 5th and East 50th, St. Pat’s big house and there were people using it!

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The Peninsula, swank crib on 5th and West 55th: you need 4 dollar signs in your wallet to walk rightly into that lobby.

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Ah yes…  The Met.  Last time I walked up those steps: April 1985.  It was art school, year one, many moons ago and with every step climbed yesterday, I said: Chi Miigwetch.  Nice to see you again.

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In the great hall, just inside the entrance:  BOOM!  There is a brand new, just installed on Monday night, Kent Monkman actual!  Wow!

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There is the other one, freshly installed on Monday night, December 16th, great hall, the Met, NYC.  Wow.  Kent Monkman went the distance with those ones!

And so: I paid my 25 bucks and walked in.  The gal at the counter was super helpful, I asked:  where are the Pollocks?

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There she is:  Autumn Rhythm (Number 30), 1950.  Seems like I crossed an ocean of time to see this.  I saw it as a 19 year old dumb ass, had no idea what I was looking at.  Thank the almighty I got back yesterday, not as a snot nosed boy art student but as a man whose seen a lot of action and been a bit or two.  Whew!  What an hour.

I walked through some of my fave rooms and saw big time art (painting) history, the work that went straight to my core back in high school, and stayed there!  In no particular order: Franz Kline, Amedeo Modigliani, Edward Hopper, Marsden Hartley, Salvador Dali, Yves Tanguy, Claude Monet, Camille Pissarro, Pablo Picasso, Paul Cezanne, Henri Matisse, Vincent van Gogh, Paul Gauguin, Auguste Renoir, Alfred Sisley, Edgar Degas, Edouard Manet, Honore Daumier, Jules Breton, Joseph Mallord William Turner…  And not just one piece from each artist, they had several of them lined up, a magical tour, a feast for the senses, and eventually an over load!

There came a point in the afternoon where my brain really did experience a meltdown.  And I don’t mean a wave of something overcoming me, I mean an actual brain turning to grey, molasses like goo and oozing out of my ears kind of meltdown.  The eyes have seen enough!  The brain, the poor fuckin thing, is on over load, maximum capacity, burning red hot!  STOP!!!  Pull over!!!

I scrambled for an exit, semi wondering if I’d gone completely wimpy, soft and gooey, and wondered too if anyone else had experienced such a thing and saw this:

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That aint no installation chief!  That aint no set up shot either.  That’s an actual human being, a woman, sitting there with her head up against the wall:  cooling the frontal lobe!  Either that or the marbles have come undone and she’s waiting for the boys in white to haul her off to the funny farm!

I could relate.  I was in meltdown mode myself.  I needed a four fingers drink or some fresh air or both!  And I was lost in there, lost in that maze of big rooms filled with big pictures, scrambling towards an exit.

Then the unthinkable happened:

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Like the apes in 2001: A Space Odyssey, I came across THIS!!!  I stood there, gawking, mouth breathing, I could almost hear that rumbling choir from the movie soundtrack rolling up on me as I walked around it, numb, knuckle dragging.  Something from childhood started to smoulder, a memory, an image, something not yet worked through, slowly started smoking…

I ran like hell, straight out of the Met, going north bound on 5th, steaming!

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Flew past this place, didn’t even stop!  Kept right on going back into the Upper East Side, into the shadows down along 1st and 92nd…

We’re going back in there today, hopefully with a refreshed mind, the marbles securely stowed, the shoes laced up tight.

When I get back to the swanky 9th, I’ll post a few photos of the super heavy duty that we crossed paths with along the way.

More to come.

 

Upper East Side, New York City

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Woke up in the Upper East Side, NYC, this morning, came downstairs and saw this.

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After the drive:  Toronto to NYC via Buffalo, and after the car was parked, we hit the streets and it wasn’t a block from here when we saw this!  ha!  (of course i don’t give a damn about politics here, back home or anywhere for that matter.  as an Indian living under the big boot Indian Act:  we’re used to dealing with mice, going on 150 years now, or more.)

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The Drunken Munkey looked good to us!  And it was quite alright, “Indian” menu, local beers, a table for two, but a third glass of, would have settled the issue.

So I’m back in town specifically to see some Jackson Pollock and Mark Rothko paintings.  It’s been 34 years since I last walked through the front doors at the Met.  Last time, I was just like that drunken monkey:  in body, mind, spirit.  Last time I had no idea what I was looking at.  This time we’re going in with a bit of an education and I hope to enjoy the pictures uninterrupted.

While we’re here we’re going to see that Kent Monkman thing happening tonight at the Met.  I hope to visit the Guggenheim tomorrow.

Temperature at 6 a.m., minus 8.  Sun in the forecast.  Big suits in the lobby, short haired or bald, big fat guts sticking out pushing their ties to a 45, all of them wanting a kiss and a hug from a blond, also in a suit, out they all go, in a New York minute.  CNN with the big headline flashing:  Trump impeached.  Christmas music piped in.  Day 2 on the road.

 

Landscapes, twinravens style

As per requested, thank you for that email, here are a few of the landscapes paintings from the past few years:

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twinravens on the range, winter, acrylic on canvas board, 7×9 inches.  Artist collection.

Tehkummah Winds on September 2

Tehkummah scenes, late August, acrylic on canvas board, 10×12 inches.  Artist collection.

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Red Wing Blackbirds on the open range

Acrylic on canvas board, 7×9 inches.  Private collection.

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Tehkummah scenes, acrylic on canvas board, 7×9 inches.  Private collection.

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sketch, 7×9 inches on canvas board

Tehkummah scenes, winter.  Private collection.

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Tehkummah scenes, winter, acrylic on canvas board, 7×9 inches.  Private collection.

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Before the Blue Moon, 6 of 9

Acrylic on canvas board, 9×12 inches.  Private collection.

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twinravens on the range, 10×20 inches on canvas board

Private collection.

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Tehkummah Scenes, acrylic on canvas board, 7×9 inches

Private collection.

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A selection of 7×9’s beautifully framed by a private collector.

So there are a few of the pieces from the past few years, inspired by the open range back home in Tehkummah, inspired too by the great Jackson Pollock!

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The Range, back home in Tehkummah, Manitoulin Island, Ontario, Canada, on a fine and wonderful summer morning: in peace and in paradise!

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Home sweet home!  That’s crib on the range, Tehkummah, Manitoulin Island.

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Home sweet home on an August evening, many moons ago:  no noise pollution, no light pollution!  What a place to call home!

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Oh yes we can’t forget this one!  Acrylic, 7×9 inches on canvas board.  Artist collection.

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The Artist, at the lake, Unionville, Ontario.  A November afternoon…

The swanky 9th

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Up there somewhere, is the swanky 9th, photo from a January evening, 2018.  It’s a very cosy crib up there with all the bells and whistles!  This morning though it’s sunny and blue skies, looks like a great day for a drive from one slab to another.  Along for the ride to and from we have the Great Jasmine Moon!

We’ve been riding together, father and daughter, since she was around 3 years old and what beautiful trips those have been, mostly The Range to the capital city.  As you can imagine the music selections have changed through the years…   On the ride down, Friday night, never thought I would say this but gosh, kids these days, what strange music they listen to!

We started out alright, me tuned into the “classic rock radio”, the limo riding smoothly down the 416, darkness all around, perfect for classic “daddy music”, cranked:  “Ace of Spades”, “Mississippi Queen”, “Uncle Salty”, “When the Levee Breaks” and the likes of, which, it appeared, my old buddy Jasmine Moon could kind of get into…  Soon the classic rock radio faded away and out came the iPhone filled with “mod music”.  Oh boy.

Out of her iPhone shuffle came Boney M, “Rasputin”.  Wow!  What a fab song, cranked, what music (and that bass line!), whew!  Truth be told, I was a bit surprised to hear such things coming out of that 16, soon to be 17 year old gal’s music selection.  She had some golden oldies on there:  “Kiss You When its Dangerous”, “Don’t Dream its Over”, and one of my old, closet, high school faves:  “Kiss On My List”.  Fun stuff.  But it didn’t end there: out came some Frank Sinatra, Tom Jones, Nat King, and the likes of.  These road trips continue to be grand and glorious father and his daughter adventures, whatever music is playing!

Switching gears, check this out:

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That is ME!  Day 1, Art School Year 1, age 18.  College photo ID snapped first thing on morning number 1, the Tuesday after Labour Day.  I remember that day!  My instructor said to me:  We’ve had a lot of Indians come through this program but none of them finished the first semester of the first year.  Me being who I was at that point in time replied:  That is why I’m here, to change all of that.

Haven’t seen that photo in years!  Shell was going through some boxes in the basement back home on the Range and found it!  Ha!

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The Great Jasmine Moon, yesterday, getting her birthday tattoo, age 16, soon to be 17.  Happy Birthday my sweetie!  Love dad.

As for yesterday’s Roncesvalles show:  fun times as always!  Maybe we’ll see you again next year!

Life and Times of a Famous Native Canadian Artist, Vol. 3

ha ha!  joking of course.  we’re not booked to be at the MET any time soon nor do we have important pieces over at the NGC.  we are the classic:  legends in our own minds!  and so yes, with a chuckle:

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the “Black Framed Originals” we’ve been working on this autumn, preparing for a pop up flash art show in November.  that is an 18×24 inch canvas board, Mother Earth sketch,  and it is one of 20 we have ready go!  the painting just above it i have been looking at for about a year.

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the painting just above, Detail: Who Is She?, 30×48″, on canvas.  the original painting of the girl on the lake, winter, 1990, yeah it was a peaceful scene but i just had to HACK it!  5 years ago it came back from where it was on display and by that time i had opened up the “art bridge” and re read a few articles on Jackson Pollock!  so this canvas was just begging to be re worked.

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yes yes it is not the classically painted face but that wasn’t what we were going for then nor is it what we’re going for today!  fact of the matter is: hey i like this one.  like i said i’ve been looking at it for a year, hanging on my wall over here in Ottawa, and i’m starting to think maybe i’ll keep that one.

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Striking a Pose, in Whitedog, Ontario, sometime in the spring of 1991.  that was on the Toronto at Dreamer’s Rock National Tour, Debajehmujig Theatre Group, and we’re about half way into that tour.  i had friends who are now long dead and gone, dust and bones, from up there, who hadn’t been home in years, and when i told them i might be passing through their old starting point they told me to get some pictures.  this of course was not the photo they were expecting!  (story of my life, ha!)

i recently saw this old photo and others when muddling and “muggling” the idea about the next writing project:  Fighting In Hell, an anishnabe’s art journey.  the title for that writing project is still in the works and the stories within: an artist story, what to leave in, what to leave out?

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that is the great Gabor Mate and his lad, in Toronto on Friday night, October 18th.  they were in town to make a presentation on parents and their adult children and the business of healing.  very interesting!  but my question was and is this:  what if the adult child has had several sets of parents from bio parents to foster parents to adoptive parents of a different culture, all within the first 7 or 8 years of life?

175 participants signed up for that 3 day presentation and you can bet any time Gabe opened the floor for questions about 80 hands shot up, and usually the same 80 hands!  so i didn’t get to ask my question.  you see Gabe is a genius.  you have questions along these lines, he has answers.  google his name if you’re not in the know.

175 x 350 = 61 250.  nice work!

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half of the “artist uniform”, at the conference, front row.  you can bet the other half of the artist uniform had things to read/say and that place being 98% women participants, there certainly were a few readers!  Nature.  Cheaper than Therapy.

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back in Markham before the bug out: wiggling the toes!  the boss man is up on the 9th chilling and i’m in the lobby switching out of the artist wear black boots for some basics: the new car has a standard transmission and folks i like to have my barefeet on those three peddles.  this being mid October, black socks will have to do!

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blazing down the 401, east bound, Sunday night alone, in the brand new limo:  put the radio on and up came 10cc, I’m Not in Love.  it being the oldies FM station they weren’t cheap and played the 6 minute version.  sweet.  kooky too, riding through the mild autumn night, all those heavy duty thoughts from the conference stewing, all those heavy duty memories from what seems like another life time ago, stewing, the open road, the wiggly toes, and the here and now…

kind of peculiar how things work out…

as a refresh: here are the opening few lines of the original life and times of, Vol. 1, posted way back in the autumn of 2017.  ah but what a beautiful September it was in 2017:  6 weeks of Indian Summer on the open range, a paint brush in my hand during the day, a glass or a key pad at night.  30 C during the afternoon, 20 C at night, for 6 wonderful weeks, down in the cosy back country of Tehkummah: no light or noise pollution.  no neighbours.  nothing but a suitcase full of 20 dollar bills and the artist with an agenda.

Life And Times Of A Famous Native Canadian Artist…

ha! i say that jokingly! because i’m out here on the range, going on 21 days now without a note of art conversation, idea expressed verbally, or hint of a hand to hold while under the mighty Milky Way. she’s new moon boys. and so, alone under the almighty, with eagles roosting down by the river (what music they make first thing in the morning!) and the great wide open: there is room to stretch the “art making arms”. we have some good looking pieces but we’re also getting down to the bottom of the paint barrels.

so last night around 7 i stowed the gear, set a table for one, lit a candle, cracked open a Paul Jaboulet Aine Cornas Domaine de Saint Pierre (2012), sparked up the youtube for a little dinner music and instead got attracted to a documentary about alien abductions. i watched the nutty scenes, heard the kook house stories, heard the so called experts blabbering on about all this stars and moon and space stuff and…

From the twinravens blog:  September 2017.

now i have no idea what i did to the comments section here,  see it is turned off.  but you can always email at twinravens at hotmail or twinravens at gmail.

miigwetch.

a walk around the block

and so!  a walk indeed!  and in this town…  oh my goodness there are mad capped scenes at darn near every turn and pretty much down every straight away.  the noise is what we can’t share here, online.  you have to come here to these mad streets.  five minutes will do it.  yes we are a long way from the river, the blue and the green.

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unknown artist and paint station, outside the Rideau Centre, November 3rd.  it was clear to me she had talent and if you took her up a notch, switched out the dollarama paint and canvas for some big leagues gear, i’m certain she could show something in one of the many indie galleries in this town.  she wanted 40 bucks for that little picture she was working on.

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invisible man?  around here you never know…   outside the Rideau Centre, November 3rd.

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spooky window display, Somerset West near Spadina, November 6th.

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more weirdness in the same shop window…  Somerset West and Spadina, on the mild night of November 6th.  me singing:  i’m an Anishnabe in the Capital City…  (sung to the tune of Sting’s Englishman in New York)

when you’re out walking and sporting the “artist’s eye”…  goodness gracious, so many “things”.

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what form!  with a silver hand…  shop window in the St. Laurent Mall, November 7th.  those super stretch fabrics, now i wish they had those when i was young!  (ha ha!)

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ah yes…  what form.  put some heels on there and you’d really have something.

if you have 8 minutes, here is a song i wrote and performed back in the summer of 1995, recorded on a 4 track Fostex, one night in a diff city, many moons ago.  before the internet.  back when my rock and roll band:  NR, was planning on being something.  ah but nothing makes the Great Spirit laugh more than a man with plans.

for the youtube video: i went out one night, twenty years after i wrote and recorded the song, in this very city, camera in hand, and shot those pictures:  headless figures (children too!), lifeless eyes, bare heads, flashy clothes, big lights, right next to the dispossessed, the have nots, the sick and the old, and the grey, placed next to a little First Nations “made in China”, thrown in for good measure.  military medals along side a public service message showing a cigarette pack filled with bullets and someone’s scrawl:  Funding natives to buy back their land 1 acre at a time…  yes it was my attempt at Anishnabe movie making/story telling.  (oh yes!  that first and very long 2 minutes of yours truly in his pow wow dancing gear-i plugged that in (just ahead of the Joseph Boyden scam which became an amusing and a down right hilarious news item right around Xmas 2016) as a confirmation that yes indeed, yours truly is an actual indian as defined within the terms and conditions of the indian act, and handled by indian and northern affairs Canada)

so where was i going with all this?  oh yes.  what i mean to say is i’ve walked these streets before.  and some things seem to never change, all we’ve done is switched out the characters and moved in some new ones.

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back to the walk around the block:  the cops on Blake, November 8th, where hookers roam, sometimes pimps, and men alone in all makes and models of cars cruise very slowly up and down the streets.  you don’t need warning signs to tell those boys to slow down on our quiet neighbourhood streets!  all we’re missing with this scene is the background NOISE.  the roar, the sirens, the continuous horn honking…  sheesh!

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unknown young man who has clearly lost his marbles, sitting in the very cold wind outside a Rotten Ron’s, Montreal Road and St. Laurent, November 9th, at noon.  he was out there for an hour, smoking his stuff, listening to whatever he had on those flashy headphones.  it was like…  zero degrees out there.  and they might be his brightest years…

i was inside looking out, wondering if it was safe to show a photo like this:

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that’s me and what’s his name, on the movie set, back in June, in Scotland.  we signed a non disclosure thing about not posting but here we are after the release date of the picture so i hope its safe to post this!

they had me so uglied up over there i was sure i could never come home.  the look was totally Hollywood Indian.  the only way i got the gig was, well, beyond that i was clearly indian, was that face of horror:  they asked me to scowl and snarl into the camera at the casting (my interview was all of 15 seconds at the Native Friendship Centre in Toronto) and boom!  they called me up and so i went.  now that was a serious walk around the block!

that chrome dome of mine, it hadn’t seen the light of day in over 45 years!  over there though, those charming hair and make up girls shaved me a fresh one every morning around nine.  i walked out of there thinking the boys are going to have a field day with this when i get back to the club!

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that’s the photo i snapped with Joe’s camera, that he smuggled onto the set one day.  that’s the two stars of the show, chilling between takes.  not sure who that other young snot nosed punk is but he was main frame with the other two.

and so if you were reading my blog back in late May and June of this year, this is what i was going on about: making movies in Scotland.  a grand adventure, something i’d do again, but next time…  i think i’ll take a pass on shaving the dome.  yes, it is growing back, but we’re a long way from the look of confidence, when sporting the Dark City Boy outfit, which thank goodness, is back in rotation, out here on these mad city streets.  i lost the “gut” i was sporting on that shoot, but being away from the 9th and all the good cooking over there, certainly helps in the weight losing department!  ha.  kooky stuff.  silly stuff too but at the end of the day, if you’re going to run with the wolves, you have to keep up AND look the part.

photo of said Dark City Boy outfit!

artist in October

 

crappy grainy photo but that’s the idea (i’ll get an updated, soon).  super fun black boots to go with!  many moons ago, on another walking around the block adventure, i drew a picture of the then “dark city boy” outfit, an idea for some jackets i wanted to make, the idea stolen from the costumes department over at Debajehmujig Theatre Group (another story we can save for later!)

photo of said picture, drawn many moons ago:

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2000 Man, Dark City Boy in front of Treasure Island, Lake Mindemoya, Ontario, Canada.  March 1, 2000.  Bic ball point pen on 98 pound paper.  yes…  we need to maintain the maintenance department…

what i’m getting at through all of this is this:  if you’re going to take a walk around the block, you might as well do alright with it.

(psst: more movie set photos to come if i can get away with posting these!)