Bus Stop

Bus Stop

Oil on panel

8.5 x 10.5 in / 22 x 27cm

2017

Diplopia

Diplopia

Mixed media on paper

20 x 25 in / 51x61cm

2017

The Hidden Path

The Hidden Path

Acrylic on panel

8 x 10 in / 20 x 25.5 cm

2017

Observer

Observer

Oil on panel

8 x 10 in / 20 x 25 cm
2016

The Tristan Chord

The Tristan Chord

Acrylic on canvas

35.5 x 47 in / 90x120cm


"The primal cloudless heavens ebb and flow, swell and condense, through vast eons of time til the visible world is created", Richard Wagner, in a letter describing the opening notes of his opera "Tristan and Isolde".

Summer of Blood

Summer of Blood

Acrylic, paper, sinew on canvas

24x24in / 61x61cm

2016

I was shaken awake by the murders in the Pulse Nightclub early that June. All summer the news was been full of bombings, shootings, murders. I made this work, tallying the lives taken. It came from a sense of gut-wrenching shock and horror. The paper stitched to the canvas is my baggage tag from Anaturk airport to Montreal, earlier that month.

Emovere

Emovere

Mixed media on canvas,
24 x 24 in / 61 x 61 cm
2016

Dance Card

Dance Card

Mixed media on canvas board

8 x 12 in / 20 x 30.5 cm

2016

Stargazy

Stargazy

Acrylic on canvas

31 x 31 in / 78 x 78 cm

2016

Charybdis

Charybdis

Acrylic on canvas

34 x 22 in / 86 x 56 cm

2016

Planet Georgia

Planet Georgia

Acrylic on canvas

32 x 32 in / 81 x 81 cm

2016
 

Mirror of the Soul

Mirror of the Soul

Acrylic on Canvas

47 x 39 in / 120 x 100 cm

2016

Collection of TBC Bank, Republic of Georgia

Angry Bird

Angry Bird

Acrylic on canvas

9.5 x 12 in / 24 x 30 cm

2016

Gatekeeper

Gatekeeper

Acrylic on Canvas

9.5 x 12 in / 24 x 30 cm

2016


 

Fata Morgana

Fata Morgana


Acrylic on canvas

17 x 17 in / 43 x 43 cm

2016

The Beacon

The Beacon

Acrylic on canvas,

16 x 20 in / 40 x 50 cm

2015

Ragnarok/Twilight of the Gods

Ragnarok/Twilight of the Gods

Acrylic on canvas

20 x 16 in / 51cm x 41 cm

2015

Two ravens (Odin’s eyes and ears).

One perished in humanity’s maelstrom

the other, now broken and blind.

Odin’s Raven

clutches the Rhinegold.

She cannot tell him

the hills, they are moving, alive – no,  they are afire, like Brunhilde’s prison.

The Norn predicted. The Norn spun our illusions, wove our fates

Weft our deeds. Warp our undeeds

Their weaving says:

“The mighty will fall

The gods will die

Valhalla will empty

of warriors, they and their battlefield deeds

like the blood they shed

will soak

into the earth

the burning earth.”

And Odin’s Raven

clutches the Rhinegold.

The Rhinemaidens enslaved long ago,

their river poisoned and damned.

And Odin’s Raven

clutches the Rhinegold.

The salmon, containing countlesspearls, the salmon, the Rhinegold,

the Grail that holds the holiest of holies.

life itself.

 

 

 

She Awaits

She Awaits

Acrylic, collage on Canvas
18 x 24 in / 46 cm x 61 cm
2015

Circe

Circe

Acrylic on Panel

38 x 47 in / 96 cm x 120 cm

2015

I.
On my island I weave
I study the plants, the animals, the wind, the waves.
They call it magic, I say it’s science
They call me a witch, I say I’m a philosopher.
Leave me to my studies and observations.
On this tiny island, no one can find me.
I almost understand, I’m almost there.

II.
I am a Goddess
There are high expectations.
My reputation is staked upon my knowledge yet
my studies are constantly interrupted
By travelers arriving on my shores
salt stained seafarers,
dessicated from sun and wind,
eyes burning and dull from
staring at endless horizons.

I give them food, wine, shelter
That is the Colchis way.
And once their bellies are full,
their thirst quenched, the rested eyes
refocus on my island, my careful and wild gardens
My sprawling abode
Upon Me.
“I could get used to this!” they shout
“I think I’ll stay and make it mine” shamelessly
as if I cannot hear.

“And I’ll tame that bitch.”
They nod meaningfully to each other.

I will not be possessed.
I am the Goddess, Circe
Daughter of Helios the Sun and Oceana of the Sea,
Sister of Aeetes (keeper of the Golden Fleece).
Aunt of the Minotaur.

III.
These hard warriors
With their sweat and foul breath
Their flashing swords and ugly words.
So arrogant in the presence of the Gods.

It’s laughable, really.
Undone, rendered powerless
By this tiny, common weed
steeped in wine.
I could have easily killed them
with my poison
But they insulted me.
So I did what only a Goddess can:
I took away their humanity.

I poisoned these unwelcome guests.
I know herbs. I poisoned them.
Nightshade, of course.
The results were amusing, to say the least

It brought out the true nature of
These beastly men.
The big one that just ate, slept and
passed wind
Transformed into a bear.
The one who bragged from dawn til dusk: “I showed them Trojans who’s boss!”
became a rooster that crowed mercilessly.
That one, who slipped around quietly, watching,
Sticking his nose where it didn’t belong
– he turned into a snake.
It became an experiment for me to predict their transformations.
Some of them, who spent their time looking at the ocean thinking of home
turned into seabirds and dolphins and slipped away.
The others kept their distance from me and roamed over the island,
Preying upon each other, for that is the way of human nature.
All that remain are a few old toothless lions and wolves.
Guarding the shores from wayward travelers.

IV.
At last I am alone again, and now that there is quiet to continue my work,
I find myself staring at the shadows cast from my fire
On the wall, and wonder at the true nature of reality.

Sakartvelo Anahata

Sakartvelo Anahata

Acrylic on canvas

39 x 47 in / 100 cm x 140 cm

2015

Collection of City of Mtskheta, Georgia

I am so excited, I can’t commit to anything, but it can be anything. It will be uniquely mine. If I was at home, what would I paint next? I had worked with the senses: scent, hearing, taste, thinking; I’d next considered the heart as the site for love … But not love as a cheap motif of romance. The fact is that love and goodness are at the core of this project.”
~ journal entry: 19/05/15

before departing, i was asked again and again: what will you paint? am i painting for georgia, painting for canada, painting for me? to paint to paint what to paint in this landscape my soul’s recognition so familiar yet so different

an ancient land of gold of clay of earth of roots of figs of vine of grapes of god of monks of priests of panthers of occupation of insurrection of reconstruction of resurrection kvevri sit broken unused yet their clay descendants made lovingly by the great grandsons of their makers are buried crucibles of nature’s magic alone for the black wine which is more than wine the first wine the earth the roots the grape the god transmuting over time immemorial never forgotten history that upon which one’s honour lies witnessed by cows strolling freely as their sacred sisters in far away lands udders swollen with milk for cheese as rare as the golden fleece.

nino came not for the fleece but climbing high planted a swooning cross made of vine wood the grape the god her brother george slaying the dragon again and again the dragons come the persians the turks the russians seem forever at the door breathing fire unsettling the hinges yet those within the dreamers the poets the painters the singers the dancers the warriors cry joyfully perhaps to spite modi modi they cry the earth the mountains the vine the grape the god the hermit’s cave the sacred space held together by stones by frescoes by frankincense by beeswax by centuries of genuflextion:

the gold the earth the roots the vine the grape the god they flex they dare defying dragons defying time’s hot hand that tries to crumble the mortar all crooked stairs musty cellars the sweat the smoke the earth the roots the grape the god the dreamers the poets the painters the singers the dancers and the tamuda who never shirks his duty. cries of gaumarjos – to win! come in dragons come to the supra and feast with us do you dare? your fire cannot burn our dreams our songs our paintings our poems our stories our dances our hearts our will. fuelled by your sacred foods your stories your mountains your earth your roots your grape your god king tamar quietly sits behind me watching waiting i paint and paint and paint and find my sakartvelo anahata.

*sakartvelo:the native georgian name for their country. Its root, kartvel-i (ქართველ-ი), referred to inhabitants of the core central region Kartli, later expanded to other areas of medieval Georgia held together by religion, culture, and language. The Georgian sa- (x)-o “the area where (x) dwell”.

anāhata: In Sanskrit, anahata means “unhurt, unstruck and unbeaten”. Also known as the heart chakra, it represents selfless love, compassion, courage, healing and interconnectedness (from Hindu Yogic, Shakta and Buddhist Tantric traditions).

Sense/Memory

Sense/Memory

Acrylic on Canvas

20 x 16 in / 50 x 40 cm

2015

 

Genius Locii

Genius Locii

Acrylic on Canvas

16 x 20 in / 40 x 50 cm

2014

The Human Brain. Avebury Henge. These ancient sites are inhabited by Genius Locii: Protective Spirits. Prominent stones, barrows, lobes were later named after the Christian devil to discredit the significance of the spiritual locus. For genius is amoral, a force of nature and so impossible to reconcile to dogma. Still, after thousands of years, the Genius Locii refuse to obey.


My thoughts meander through this landscape, making connections at odd crossroads, as our brains often do. I wonder where exactly is this Genius of the human brain located. Does it sit in the Devil’s Chair, or languish in the Devil’s Den? Perhaps it is seared into our consciousness by the Devil’s Brandirons, or flies freely as sparks from his infernal anvil.

I fancy that flying ever outward and inward simultaneously like planets on their predestined revolutionary paths, the Genius Locii seek out their final place of rest in the henges and brains that reside in as yet unborn universes. 

I have no answers, but so many questions. For how can the brain ever know itself?

H(EAR)

H(EAR)

Acrylic on canvas

16 x 20 in / 50 x 40 cm

2014


I. Two Messengers
The hummingbird, that flying jewel, the messenger who flies on wings of infinity. 
Greek god Hermes, known as Mercury to the Romans, the messenger whose namesakes are a silvery liquid, and the planet that rules communications. 
Quicksilver hummingbird perches outside my window singing me his message: the Music of the Spheres. 

II. Musica Humana
When I am perfectly still, in silence, I hear my breath, pulse, the rush of blood through my head. A quiet so thick and deep that the line between my soul and body resonates, creating its own unique music.

III. Musica Universalis
Holding a seashell (Fibonacci’s Golden Spiral manifested) to my ear, do I hear the ocean or an echo of my body? 
1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144… 
A mathematical relationship expressing tones and harmonies in numbers, angles, shapes and sounds.
Pythagoras thought the Sun, Moon and planets each resonate with their own unique song as they orbit. He proposed that the quality of life on Earth reflects the tenor of celestial sounds, physically imperceptible to the human ear. 

IV. Shakespeare
The man that hath no music in himself, 
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, 
Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils,
The motions of his spirit are dull as night
And his affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music.

Medusa

Medusa

Acrylic on canvas board

8 x 10 in / 20 x 25 cm

2014

In ancient Greek mythology, Medusa was one of three sisters known as the Gorgons. Their parents were Cthonic gods (pre-Olympian) thus were elemental gods. Medusa (Protector) and her sisters had writhing snakes for hair, wings upon their brows and a fearsome gaze that turned people to stone. As the only mortal of the Gorgons, she was tricked and slain by the Hero Perseus. 

Medusa has often been identified with women's rage; a common symbol in feminist writings. I think we should also look to her Cthonic lineage; that boundless and inextinguishable power of nature and the unconscious world that exists in each of us. Rage indeed, but also the deep reserves of power that allows us to survive in the most inconceivable circumstances. To love with every fibre of our being. To fiercely protect our loved ones to the death.

The Medusa I have painted is of that Cthonic world. Her face is essentially a mask, yet her eyes are far-seeing: one to the endless depths within, the other to the infinity of the Universe without.

 

Stalemate

Stalemate

Acrylic on Unstretched Canvas, grommets

26 x 46 in / 66 x 117 cm

2014

 

Temperance

Temperance

Acrylic on canvas

18 x 20 in / 46 x 51 cm

2013

Two ravens, Thesis and Antithesis, perch on an Alchemical egg, its incubation tempering Synthesis. The shell is covered in hairline cracks as this unified third outgrows its vessel. The ravens have urged open a large crack, revealing molten gold within, still in the process of change. With their beaks, they pull at this new growth of transformation transforming.

Seemingly irreconcilable opposites may not be irreconcilable. Any oppositions, fire and water, man and woman, thesis and anti-thesis can be made into a unified third. It is only a lack of will and a disbelief in the possibility that keeps opposites, opposite. Only we keep our universe in twain, holding life and death, material and spiritual worlds separate. In each of us the two could merge. All it takes, is the right proportions, the right vessel and enough faith that the two can be unified.

The Eye Sees More Than the Heart Knows

The Eye Sees More Than the Heart Knows

Acrylic on Canvas

20 x 16 in / 50 x 40 cm

2012

Visions of the Daughters of Albion
The Eye Sees More than the Heart Knows
Where the cold miser Spreads his gold? or does the bright cloud drop
On his stone threshold? does his eye behold
the beam that brings
Expansion to the eye of pity? or will he bind himself
Beside the ox to thy hard furrow? does not that mild beam blot the bat, the owl, the glowing tyger, and the king of night...

Will:m Blake, 1793

Alchemical One: Raven

Alchemical One: Raven

Acrylic & graphite powder on canvas

26 x 30 in / 66 x 76 cm

2012

Based loosely on the Alchemical concept of "Caput Mortem", putrefication that comes after death, with the traditional image of a Raven perched on a skull. The heavily jewelled crown in this piece shows that whether King or pauper, we all end up as food for worms, so that new life may carry on. The sky is a representation of an extraordinary hue seen at dusk, and the seaside may be seen as a place of endings and beginnings.

Alchemical Two: Gold Atoms

Alchemical Two: Gold Atoms

Acrylic on Canvas

26 x 30 in /66 x 76 cm

2012

As the second and central panel of the Alchemical Triptych, this work shows a simplified and creative representation of the Alchemical process of death, decomposition, rebirth and the combining of opposites to create a higher state of being.
This painting is based on an image of two gold atoms colliding. In the Alchemical process, the desired result is essentially Gold. Surrounding it are Mercury, Salt, and Sulphur, symbolic elements which are, in Alchemical philosophy, the necessary components to achieve gold. Near the centre top is an Alchemical symbol for gold. The surrounding text is composed of measurements and attributes of the element AU/Gold. Interspersed are quotations relating to the state of "purity" in enlightenment. Philosophical alchemists consider the Alchemical process a metaphor for enlightenment and achieving inner knowledge of "the gold within".

The Encaged Heart

The Encaged Heart

Acrylic on canvas

18 x 20 in / 46 x 50 cm

2013

When I was a little girl, my mother had a canary named Mickey. The wire cage on it’s metal stand, the cag'es cover carefully placed over top every night, the little bird’s cheerful twittering and singing were constants in my childhood.

By the time I was 8, it was my job to put food and water in the little plastic cups that slid into the sidebars, and to change the paper and pour a little gravel on the cage’s floor. I regarded it as a serious responsibility, because there was always the danger of Mickey escaping, flying out the cage’s open door as I was reaching in, or out the bottom if I accidently lifted the cage while changing the paper. He did escape once or twice, flying throughout the living room, against the drapes, seeking the window and the open skies beyond. 

After a while I realized there had been many Mickeys over the years; one day we would wake up and there would be a silent, still little yellow bird laying on the floor of the cage. I began to feel that it was a great injustice to keep anything in a cage.

It was in my late teens, just as I was leaving home, that the dreams began. I dreamed that I had forgotten to feed Mickey, that a whole week had gone by before I remembered and that I would find him, dead, laying on the bottom of his cage. These dreams carried on for years, until I finally realized that the bird represented me, my soul, my very essence. My unconscious was telling me that I had to nurture my soul if I wanted to survive. This is how the image of the birdcage began to emerge in my creative works, beginning in about 1990.

In The Encaged Heart the canary cage is at the centre of the composition, It now serves as a perch for the raven, a free, autonomous being, not an enslaved creature. This empty birdcage is enclosed in yet another cage, a ribcage.

The physical heart is housed within the ribcage. Yet the heart is not just an organ of the body; it is also an energetic and philosophical dynamo connected to love, pain, fear, joy. It’s blood vessels reach out, searching, yearning. To let it escape from it’s cage, to fly free devil may care in love and compassion is perhaps our greatest risk and freedom. From these flights we grow, set roots, and learn that life and love is set with thorns as well as green garlands. Sometimes we still have to leave a trail of breadcrumbs to lure our heart, that tiny bird, back to the safety of it’s chosen cage.

Higgs Bosen I

Higgs Bosen I

Acrylic on canvas

17 x 17 in / 43 x 43 cm

2012

This painting is based on a theoretical image of the Higgs Bosen or Higgs particle, an elementary particle in the Standard Model of particle physics. The Higgs boson is predicted to exist for theoretical reasons, and may have been detected by experiments at the Large Hadron Collider. For me, these images and ensuing paintings demonstrate the intense beauty & infinite knowledge of the universe.

Breath

Breath

Acrylic on canvas

17 x 17 in / 43 x 43 cm

2012



I am a seeker of truths: Unversal truths, spiritual truths, my own truths. Just as I twitch aside one curtain of understanding, I find another behind, and another. I step through each curtain, believing that somewhere behind all these layers lays the source of all truths. In this painting, the manifestation of that source is in the form of a woman. She is made of water and fire and exhales steam, that first breath which is the beginning of all. Above her head is the eye that manifests her. And overarching all is the Egyptian Goddess Nut, forming a canopy of the heavens with her body, benignly supporting and observing all.

Perifery

Perifery

Acrylic on canvas

17 x 17 in / 43 x 43 cm

2012

I am walking through the early spring woods at dusk. Except for the sound of the blood in my veins and my footfall all is quiet. In my periferal vision - a sense of something there. I look; it is just a gnarled tree. I walk on with heightened awareness. There is that feeling again, that sense of something there - and a slight sound. I look, and see a horse and rider in silhouette against the dying light, standing motionless behind a tree. They wait.

Biography

Biography

Acrylic on canvas

17 x 17 in / 43 x 43 cm

2012

The Alchemists wrote of combining base elements in a complicated series of steps with the aim of producing gold. Although some certainly did try this, for many then, and still, Alchemy is a spiritual practice and this painstaking process is a metaphor for finding the "pure gold" of enlightenment that lays in potenia within us all. Within this Alchemical retort (or cauldron) simmers traditional Alchemical and mystical symbols: Mercury, Sulphur & Salt; the Sun & Moon; the dragon and the serpent's egg. From Qabbalistic philosophy, the hand, the eye, the sword, the anchor and the key. And of course, a skull to represent the death of one phase of existence. Eventually, all the superfluous, leaden and toxic elements boil away and we are left with an elixir of our own unique pure gold. Written around the top three edges of the canvas in gold, are the following words: "Vista Interioraterrae Rectifiando Invenies Occultum Lapidem... Visit the Interior Parts of the Earth: by Rectification thou shalt find the hidden stone."

Nest

Nest

Acrylic on canvas

17 x 17 in / 43 x 43 cm

2012