Mj Viano Crowe
Series: The invisible Unknown
The Hermetic Law of Correspondence proclaims that all things—even polar opposites—are interconnected: spiritual and physical realms, things seen and unseen, as well as occurrences rational or intuitively sensed.
More specifically, it states: “as above, so below; as below, so above.”
Mj Viano Crowe, Threshold of Paradises, paper cut stencils from arches paper, layered over off-set and registered prints, 50 x 44 in.
My work, The Invisible Unknown, seeks to personify these relationships, reflecting my life-long fascination with goddess mythology, religious signs and practices, alchemy and mysticism, illuminated manuscripts, and the universal language of archetypes.
I transform insects, birds, and invented creatures into my own scheme of iconography, blending science with spirit to represent primal sources and the energies of the earth.
Mj Viano Crowe, Realm of Trials, paper cut stencils from Arches paper, layered over off-set and registered prints, 34 x 42 in.
My shamans, mystics, and divinities are intended as teachers, guides, and protectors, honoring the essence expressed through the animals and plants, and leading us on imagined journeys of magical inventiveness deep into the realm of the rhythms and patterns of Gaia, Mother Earth.
Mj Viano Crowe, Silence, assembled images on transparency film with beeswax, 6 x 40 in.
Judith Greene-Janse
Judith Greene-Janse, Dad with his Boots On, acrylic on canvas, 20 x 20 in.
My father always wanted to die with “his boots on.” He would go on any trip, no matter how difficult or inappropriate to his age and agility, because he had always gone on unusual adventures and never stopped for anyone or any opinion other than his own. He was a geologist deeply curious about the world both natural and historical. He created his own trips with many major detours to satisfy this curiosity about land and peoples and if you were along, you never knew where you would end up and how dark it would be before you found a campsite or a place to sleep or eat. Whenever and wherever at all possible, he took a nap after lunch.
These paintings are the unconscious processing I did, as a painter, after his sudden death from a fall. He did have his boots on. But this did not stop my mind from going back over and over thinking about him and his impact on my daily choices and their impact on my own personality. From having dreams and visions and ideas about the supernatural quality of peoples’ energies and influences on others, the first painting is my interpretation of his demand to pass with his boots on no matter what. My mother’s presence is an expression of commitment on the journey of raising us five children to continue those adventures.
It is the first painting that I consider the strongest expression of my unconscious mind on the subject of my father. In painting number two, my father walks along on the beach. His position in the center of the painting is haunting because he is always walking towards me, alone and determined to continue going his own way, very slowly and very focused, inhabiting the mood. In painting number three, Dad is taking his nap. I painted this because it feels like death and sleeping are at peace with each other, and I like to think of him this way, maybe not with us, but only napping.
Judith Greene-Janse, Dad Walking On The Beach, acrylic on paper, 20 x 16 in.
Judith Greene-Janse, Dad Taking a Nap, acrylic on wood panel, 13 x 22 in.
Ruth Sylmor
Ruth Sylmor, Untitled, giclée print, 10 x 6in., 2023.
“How do you make visible what is unknown and unsaid?”
An astute question! Curiosity? Dedication? Perseverance? Meandering about with my new-to-me Pixel-6 phone after years of traditional darkroom work, I realize that my photographs today are echoes of what has happened in my life: feelings which at some point manifest themselves in images. They represent me—my desires, my concerns, my sense of humor. I’m intuitive. I photograph what I feel and hope that the viewer sees what I perhaps cannot. Now at a certain age, I believe, as Leonard Cohen wrote: “There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.”
Ruth Sylmor, Paris, Dilettante, giclée print, 11 x 8 in., 2024.
Ruth Sylmor, Paris, quai d’Orléans, giclée print, 11 x 8in., 2023.
Ruth Sylmor, Paris, rue de l’Abbé de l’Épée, giclée print, 10 x 7 in., 2023.
Deena Ball
These small, semi-abstract works start with moving the various colors of watercolor grounds around the board. I look for interesting shapes and compositions. Unlike many of my traditional watercolors, these are not planned out. Somehow I usually end up with a landscape, and lately all the themes are about our changing earth.
I am inspired by the way light interacts with the landscape. The sun sparkling across rocks and ocean is invigorating, while the dawn’s early light, turning the world pink and tranquil, brings a sense of calm and hope. The Maine landscape has a darker, stormier side, deep pine woods where silence prevails, powerful rivers that wash out roads, and a rising ocean that threatens and claims human creations. Perhaps it’s the frequent gloomy skies that make me appreciate the nuances of gray and the profound impact of sunlight. My paintings aim to evoke an emotional response from the viewer, fostering a greater collective appreciation for our land and nature.
Deena S. Ball, Smoldering, watercolor on watercolor grounds on board—fixed and waxed, 6 x 6 in.
Deena S. Ball, Warning, watercolor on watercolor grounds on board, fixed and waxed, 6 x 6 in.
Deena S. Ball, Summer Rain, watercolor on watercolor grounds on board, fixed and waxed, 6 x 6 in.
Image at top: Mj Viano Crowe, The World Above, paper cut stencils from Arches paper, layered over off-set and registered prints, 44 x 44 in.