Three, 8 x 8″ acrylic and ink on canvas
The cold rock and morning sun were a combination hard to resist. Tiny bumps and crevices lent themselves as footholds as the bird worked to conquer the steep landscape above. The occasional misstep left her swinging and thankful for the cord of rope connecting her to the summit. And as the minutes passed and the distance to the top diminished she reveled in the view below.
Acrylic and ink on canvas
Unlike other adventures the bird had recently embarked on, the work lay less in the activity itself, and more in the getting to it. She would admit that sledding mostly scared her. It was a bit of a game of chance – marked by a vague ability to control direction, speed or, for that matter, stopping. And yet the bird repeated the climb again and again, feeling the reward of the rush, was well worth the effort.
20 x 14″ Acrylic and ink on canvas
A waterfowl she was not, or so she’d been told. A bird of her kind might dip a toe from time to time, but never fully submerge. But as crisp mountain runoff crested around her, shooting her quickly downstream, she realized the absurdity of such comments. A bird is not always what she seems.