Friday, August 7, 2015

A Boy and His Dog

Way back a hundred years ago, when I was in high school, I found myself strangely attracted to Ian's (my husband's) energy. I could sense he was walking down the hall long before I ever knew his name or anything about him. In a crowd of people, it was always him that I saw first and last. I noticed his hands before I noticed anything else. He has handsome and intelligent hands (don't ask me how I can tell that they are such, I just can and they just are). He has always been an intriguing human being to me, so to find myself still married to this guy (a hundred years later) is a very cool thing. I love this man.

I have always sensed his creative energy even though, over the years, he hasn't expressed it openly much at all. Still, it's been there and as I am ultra-ridiculously and almost painfully sensitive I was aware of it before he was, I think. I just knew things were brewing within his heart and mind, just under the surface... if only I could convince him to tap into it. Just make some art, I have said to him over and over again. It's that simple. Sometimes I would say it gently, other times, not so much. Have you ever lived with a creative person who refuses to acknowledge their creativity, by the way? It makes for some very grumpy times and we have had our fair share of those over the years. Yet, lately, the strange and enigmatic dam that is my husband's consciousness finally broke. One day, out of the blue, he hauled his collection of animal bones and teeth (lovingly collected in the woods of New Brunswick over the years) out of the closet and sat down with a needle, thread, and some old torn up t-shirts and before I knew what the heck he was up to, he made these sculptures/things as you seen in the photos below. He lovingly calls the pair "A Boy and His Dog" (does anybody remember Gidget?) and they are amazing. The personality and conceptual pairing of these materials completely blew me away. There's nothing to them, really. That is until you notice that there is everything to them. Touching them, feeling their weight and the animal bones disguised within the cloth is really really startling.  Cute as they are, these are not toys. These are something else. These are talismans or something just as spooky and strange and dark and endearing all at the same time. These, in other words, are perfect expressions of the goings on inside the mind of Ian.

What makes them all the more intriguing to me is that they are only his first (and second) attempt at making something entirely by his own hands. They also represent a natural penchant for sewing, I might add. Who knew Ian could sew? I didn't. Ha! This proves you can be married to someone for well over a decade and still be pleasantly surprised.

I find that his work meshes rather well juxtaposed against my clutter of art supplies and paintings.  I paint soft, feminine images. He makes creatures out of bones and teeth. Okay. That's interesting to me. A very interesting contrast indeed. Sounds about right. Complete opposites only up until it counts the most and then, something unpredictable and beautiful occurs. That's us, in a nutshell.

Maybe you like his work and maybe you don't? The beauty of it is, he is so confident about what he does, he doesn't give a damn one way or the other. Well, well, well. Ian the man and Ian the artist. What more do I need to say?

         "A Boy and His Dog"

And a couple of my current works in progress: 



  1. There you go! good go Ian...surprise Jody some more! Liking it!