Tag: Art

bōs—the sacrifice

"bōs—the sacrifice," by Terre Britton

“bōs—the sacrifice” ©2013 Acrylic on Canvas, 16 5/8″ x 31 5/8″ framed.

“bōs—the sacrifice” is a piece that is currently in the “All Things Holy” exhibition at Artel Gallery, Pensacola, FL.

To my delight,  this little guy became the darling of “All Things Holy” on opening night. The crowd’s response was more than gracious.

You will find a list of all the work in the show at the bottom of the exhibition post.

“I See”

"I See" ©2011, Acrylic on Canvas, by Terre Britton

“I See” ©2011, Acrylic on Canvas, 24″ x 30″

“I See” is a piece that is currently in the “All Things Holy” exhibition at Artel Gallery, Pensacola, FL.
I will post the remaining images in the coming weeks. Until then, a complete list of images can be found on the original announcement post and I will update links as they are posted.

Illustration from “Taming Those Wild Feelings”

"Meditation" (c)2005, Digital Art, 8

“Meditation” (c)2005, Digital Art, 8″ x 10″.

Meditation

An image from a children’s book, by Terry Lowey Pickup, that I illustrated in 2005. “Taming Those Wild Feelings” is available in paperback through a number of book stores, including Amazon.

Quick Study: Ugly Apple

"Solo No.3: Ugly Apple" (c)2012 - Acrylic on Stretched Canvas, 4" x 4"

“Solo No.4: Ugly Apple” (c)2012 – Acrylic on Stretched Canvas, 4″ x 4″

Solo Series, No.4

This image is part of my Quick Study Series and part of my Quick Study Challenge.

Enjoy!

"Solo No.3: Ugly Apple" (c)2012 – B&W Digital (photoshop)

“Solo No.4: Ugly Apple” (c)2012 – B&W Digital (photoshop)

Ora Sento

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Ora Sento

“Ora Sento”  (c)2012, Acrylic on Canvas Board, 16″ x 20″

“Ora Sento” is on display in the 2012 Members’ Show, December 4, 2012 to January 4, 2013, at the Artel Gallery, Pensacola FL.

Consecrated Perception

As any doting parent, I could endlessly wax poetic on the smallest, furry member of our family: our cat-child, Shadow, aka Kitty. I’ll attempt brevity, but I believe the back story is integral to the power of the incident.

Since slinking into our garage two years ago, thin-bodied and hollowed eyed, at arm’s length—not withstanding many a scratch and plentiful swabs of topical colloidal silver—we treated her for mange, fleas, and yanked out a few festering tics. We catered to her basic needs but chose not to tame her, for fear of weakening the instincts she depended on for survival.

We just let her be.

We eventually gained her trust through ritual daily feedings and by waiting on her for any natural, sociable advances; but otherwise, she happily remained a wild and energetic garage-cat in control of her destiny.

However, prior to moving to Pensacola, she grew lethargic, a bit of a cry-baby, and, strangely, more interactive, particularly rubbing her ears against our knuckles. Odd, we thought. But we knew, without doubt, that something was up when she started listing to one side. The vet, however, assured us that she was fine and chalked it up to a difficult adjustment to our local move three months earlier.

But following our arrival in Pensacola, her imbalance increased and she began vomiting. So off to the vet we flew, whereupon she was diagnosed with a severe infection in both ears and a build-up of mite “debris”—otherwise known as poop—so dense and deep in her ear canal that a general anesthetic was required for the cleaning.

When she was safely back home, and completely conscious, she was transformed.

Tall and still she sat. Listening.

Eyes riveted; ears poised.

I could see her hearing. Suddenly, she turned and opened her eyes to me; they were enormous and clear. Her expression was deep and focused. She seemed amazed and curious and in love. With life. And I was there to savor her sentience. We shared an energy, a communion that was bigger than the two of us. Well, I did. I know I’ve anthropomorphized her reaction, and you might deem me daft, but I like to think that we shared a union on a metaphysical level and I consider myself fortunate to be witness to one of the most unique and pure moments of cognizance, expression and wonder.

This is the gift that I painted.

Epilogue

Since this incident, and though she retains her free-spirit, she’s become a little love-bug that follows me around the house and curls up next to me in the middle of the night. Oh, the joy. Sigh.

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