Phil Irish

Last week, after teaching, I got together with Scott Sawtell. (Scott makes politically provocative paintings -- see his work here.) Following dinner, we went to visit Emily Carr at the AGO.

It was interesting to see how populated the early works are: the First Nations villages are thriving with children and canoes and people making stuff. The vibrant Gauguin-induced colours only add to the sense of life.... so is this a romanticism akin to Gauguin's tahiti?

But then, the modernist Emily is painting dense forests, and totem poles, with no sign of people. The people are gone. So is this a modernist "take out the narrative" abstraction? Or did the villages see marked decline in the intervening 20 years?

The dense forests, full of rippling rhythms and illusionstic paradoxes, were my favorite bits.

The end of the show felt depressing. The wall texts were going on about the luminous skies of Theosophy... but all I saw was the decline of the forest to wimpering lone trees. Paintings about decline, but not the howling rage of decline... rather, the wimper of helplessness.

Looking for a way to immerse ourselves in the Easter experience, we borrowed a "Pysanky" egg dying kit. Drawing the lines on with a wax resist, a few of us circled around the burning candle flame... it was a beautiful experience.

It's quite addictive, adding colour after colour without knowing how it is turning out. It evolved to a point of being a ball of blackened wax, dipped in black dye. Then, gently removing the wax coating, the vibrant colours were revealed. Revelation indeed. A poetic process. Anna and I became addicted. I've now ordered my own kit, to be ready for next year.

Pictured is my fav egg.
Instead of the traditional pattern, this egg has a meditation on one of Christ's "words from the cross." I like the way you have to keep turning the egg to discover all the elements. There is something true about this turning, discovering, unfolding.