Fare Thee Well, Summer

This picture, 'Spider Says Good-bye to Summer' is about endings.

Unlike Spider I'm not saying good-bye but I am saying that I probably won't be as active on my blog as I have been.

The reason is that I have started a new page on face book called 'Francie McGlynn Art'.  It is allowing me to post my pictures and follow other artists from around the world.  Unfortunately I'm simply running our of time.

I'll check in with everyone when I can and I'm not closing down a North End Journal because I've learned these things wax and wane and by next summer I may be back here posting five times a day.

:)

I'm off to Ottawa this week-end for a National Remembrance Day that may be very, very different from anything we've seen before.

Freedom, especially for women, has never seemed so precious.

Till next time,

Francie

The Good Man

I was about a block from the funeral home when this picture was taken.  Cpl Cirillo's cortege has just appeared.

Two Canadian soldiers were murdered last week, 

Warrant Officer Patrice Vincent and Cpl Nathan 

Cirillo.  Both are a terrible loss but Cpl Cirillo's death 

has affected us at a very deep level.  That's because

at the time of his death he embodied the archetypal 

'good man' actively protecting everything we hold 

sacred whereas Warrant Officer Vincent was simply

going about his daily life when he was killed. 

The archetypal 'good man' or 'good father' or 'hero' 

has not been a large part of our western society for 

a while.  Many of our 'heroes' are rich, greedy and 

tend to debase and abuse women and children.

Cpl Cirillo has become a symbol that resonates in 

all of us. The protector/defender role model children 

need, particularly boy children learning what it 

means to be a good man.

I'll watch Cpl Cirillo's funeral and cry but I'll also 

know that he was a hero and in a way he could 

never have expected he was there when we needed 

him.

Thank-you, Cpl Cirillo

He was shot in the neck and bleeding heavily, a

young First Nations soldier named Flock out of 

Stony Creek.  He had hit Juno Beach on

D Day+1 with his fellow Argyll & Sutherland 

Highlanders of Canada. Somehow  his buddies got

 him to the ambulance.  They took off but in the

chaos the ambulance got lost and he bled out.

I know about him because my Dad, his friend

and fellow Argyll was with him when he died. 

The Argylls went on to be part of the liberation of

Holland and helped bring about the fall of Nazi

Germany. 

Many more died.

In their memory Cpl Cirillo of 

the Argyll& Sutherland Highlanders 

of Canada was standing guard at the National 

War Memorial yesterday by the tomb of the 

unknown soldier.

We won't forget.

He Dances

Sometimes Death rides a horse.

Sometimes he simply drifts down a waterway like Twelve Mile Creek.


He's kind of a goofy looking fella but he always brings a gift.


He brought bubonic plague and famine to Europe.

He brought cholera to the Irish canallers on the Twelve.

He brought small pox to the indigenous people of North America.


And now he's dancing through north Africa.

Happy Thanksgiving, Pilgrim

Americans are a patriotic bunch and as the first 

Thanksgiving happened on what is now part of the 

USA and is often depicted as occurring under a flag 

pole that flies the stars and stripes we often assume 

the Pilgrims were Americans.

Not true.

There was no USA when the Pilgrims landed.

 

No 49th parallel.

Even the Toronto Maple Leafs didn't exist in

those far off days.

It was British North America and therefore we have 

as much right to those sanctimonious, self-righteous 

bigots of old as they do. 

So you can rest easy on the Pilgrim front, Canada 

and have a great Thanksgiving!

:)

Along the Twelve

Just as the mighty Niagara River flows into Lake Ontario so do a number of creeks that are found along the south-western shores of the lake.  The early settlers named them according to the number of miles they were from the river.

The community that eventually grew into present day St. Catharines, Ontario was on Twelve Mile Creek and was sometimes simply referred to as "The Twelve".

You can see Twelve Mile Creek in the centre of the picture.  Parts of it were incorporated into the first three Welland Canals.  Lake Ontario is in the upper right. Along the bottom are the colours of the abundant harvest that comes from our rich farmland.  The urban areas along The Twelve are represented by the houses at the top.

The 406 Highway that runs through the peninsula and joins up with the Queen Elizabeth Highway - Niagara's link with Hamilton, Toronto, Montreal and  New York runs parallel to the waterway in the picture.

This is where I live. It's home.  

The Song of Creation

Artist's Statement

I'm interested in symbols.  Not mainstream cultural symbols but personal images as they come to me in dreams or intuition when I'm sitting at my drawing table. 

I am influenced by North American Aboriginal art, Medieval art, the Symbolist movement, Celtic design, Jungian psychology (or my understanding of it) and many other art movements and artists.

My work often revolves around spiritual issues. I'm trying to find God but not in the traditional sense of being saved from my sins. I try to capture the resurgence of the Divine Feminine as She appears to me. 

I use oil pastels.  They look like crayons but consist of pigment mixed with a non-drying oil and a wax binder.  They are clunky, can be very messy and don't allow for too much detail.  

Before I use the oil pastels I prime water colour paper with India ink and a clear polymer glaze.  I start each picture with a single line or 'thread'.  Eventually an image comes to mind and I build the picture from there, section by section.  I cover the finished work with another glaze.

My art is a joy to me.  It is the first time in my life I've been free to investigate the inner landscape of my own mind.  I believe my mind is joined to all of humanity in what Carl Jung called "the collective unconscious" and so even though my symbols may seem obscure and personal they often resonate with other people. 

Francie

I Smell Winter

This picture is called, "The Scarf".

You can see mittens at the top and cardinals on the right but mostly it is about the scarf.

eek

I smell winter coming.

Back Off, June Cleaver!

Just finished this one which I have named 'Feeding Frenzy" for no particular reason.  As a matter of fact the picture was done just for the joy of watching it grow.  No hidden meaning, (or obvious meaning), that I can see.

But I have a problem today.

Tomorrow I'm having my ancient floor replaced.  And right now I'm sitting here trying to resist the urge to wash the old linoleum.  

Why do I feel my floor has to be clean?  It is going to be torn up tomorrow and thrown in the dumpster by a crew of workers I'll never see again.

These guys don't qualify as 'company' to anyone but my inner June Cleaver.


But she's stronger than I am.

Getting the bucket.

:(
  

Letting Go

Here I am.  

All four of me.

A part of me has weathered the storm, 
some parts however, are still trapped in the 
drama of it all.

But my nest is moving into calmer waters

and I'm grateful.

How can I Open My Eye When There is a Fish In It?

A few years ago I had a dream that a large fish came out of the centre of my forehead.  

I spent a lot of time massaging the area the next day and my "third eye" is still a sensitive area.  I often find myself rubbing it.

I'm not sure if the design part of this picture is finished.  It probably is - it is just that I hate to leave bare naked parts without anything in them and it is costing me to just let this one be.  

Anyway I'll glaze it tomorrow and sell it for $10,000.00

Oh wait - that's in a parallel universe -

I mean I'll glaze it tomorrow, put it away and start a new one.

Heh heh.

The Bird of Prey

My new picture started with a pair of bird feet.  

I had been looking at one of Mark Elderkin's astonishing photos of a bird of prey last week, blackriverlakeblog.blogspot.com and was mesmerized by the creature's power.

I suppose this is a picture of the bird of prey in me.

Or you.

:)

Usurp the King!

Labour Day Parade in my working class hometown 

At first it seemed like divine justice.

An American corporation is moving its headquarters to Canada to escape paying high taxes at home.

I mean how many times have American parent companies shut our plants first in hard times?

But to tell you the truth the more I think about it the more the whole thing gives me a sick feeling.

This company is likely run by guys who earn more money in a day than their minimum wage employees earn in a month.

But they are deserting their homeland and refusing to carry their share of their country's tax burden.

Shame!

Do we want scuzzy corporations like this in Canada?

Take a stand on Labour Day, spread the word -

Boycott Burger King.

I'm a Little Teapot

Last year I read a book about the history of tea.

I was totally surprised at the thievery, trickery
and bloodshed it took to get the stuff on 19th 
century grocery shelves.  

Which is a fact you may or may not find mildly 
interesting but which has nothing to do with why
I made this picture. 

I am practising shading using oil pastels.

You might see any number of teapots in
the near future because heaven knows seeing 
one teapot is never enough, is it?

And I need the practice.  :)

For Those Who Fall Overboard at Mid-Life

That's you in the ship.

The first ship.  

Poor sap.  

You've been sailing along the surface of life
for decades

not knowing what is churning below the waterline.

What needs your attention.
What needs to be fed.
What needs to be healed.

You're going down my friend.

The old you is going to die.


Not everyone seems to have a mid-life crisis 
but I certainly did.  I felt as if I was shattering
into large chunks. And to my embarrassment 
dropping them everywhere I went.
Like Humpty Dumpty I couldn't put myself
together again.

Eventually the chaos did clear somewhat 
and I've found the second half of life to be 
a fertile, creative and spiritual country full 
of endless possibilities. 

And wrinkles.  :)

The Crown of Cerridwyn

Hoinouring Cerridwyn, the Goddess of Inspiration today.

Thanks to Debra She who Seeks, (link), I know that the word 'inspiration' means 'breath of the Divine'.

And that's what I was missing in the last two weeks.

I wasn't leaving any room for inspiration I was all 'plan, plan, plan'.  As if I was in charge.


No plan to this picture.  I started with one line and went with what it suggested.  I let the picture grow the way it wanted to grow.


Note:

Interesting to see how the Goddess was hidden 
in the guise of the Virgin Mary for thousands of years.  

It Isn't Me

I spent yesterday destroying every bit of work that I have 
done in the last 2 weeks.

It was all such a pile of shit.  

There's no art work in progress pinned up to think about.

My pastels don't look alive.

They look weary and tired.



I made light of the Gods and forgot it isn't me 
- it is what they give me.




Going to the gym.

And Now for My Dark Side

There is no accounting for the human psyche.

I am totally obsessed by 'Vikings'.

The combination of sex, religion, survival and the supernatural in this Canadian/Irish production is just too much for me.  

I'm hooked.

I'm sitting here waiting for some glaze to dry on a new piece of paper and with nothing better to do I thought I'd share a trailer.

Ah Ragnar, you can lie your shield under my bed anytime! 

:)

Adrift on a Sea of Sand

This picture isn't finished but I like it and I posted it to 'Francie McGlynn Art' on face book so I'm posting it here, too.

I suppose I was about six when this was taken.  

We are at a mystery beach.  

It isn't likely Lake Ontario because it is 1955 and my parents think Lake Ontario is full of polio bacteria just waiting to lock their kids into iron lungs.

I'm adrift on a sea of sand but I am also watchful - the way kids who are never sure which way the wind is going to blow, are watchful.

It's hard to be small.

1934

My newest mixed media picture.

It is called '1934'.

It is the middle of the Great Depression.  My mother is about 17 and she is the figure in the centre.

Times are tough but the great thing about the picture is the 'attitude' they have.

Cheeky teenagers!


Some things never change.  :)




*