Art by Smilia Marvosh

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“At Home with Aliens”

Oil on canvas – 35” x 30”

At Home with Aliens
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It felt like time to paint another alien portrait. My friend Tladik, my first alien, needed a partner. In contemplating the design I remembered looking at some images of hairless cats and went back to find the one that captured me the most. It was still so striking that I couldn’t imagine inventing something much more alien, interesting, or mysterious. I am still always struck by the fact that such interesting life forms like dogs and cats live with humans so easily, with 4 legs and tails, species so different from us that it is always remarkable to me, indeed like living with aliens. In many ways I credit them with more intelligence than humans, and constantly wish I understood the language. I imported an imagined world for my cat alien, with tree lights that light her way as she moves through the landscape. The tree lights only come on when she passes under them, as you can see from the fact that the other tree lights are not casting beams, but waiting to light her way if necessary. Note her semi-transparency; she is able to fade in and out of sight, perhaps paying a little visit, checking her traps. In this world (a possible future Earth?) nature, the Big Mother, has revolted, having cast off the Destroyers in “The Last Hours of Ancient Sunlight” (Thom Hartmann), and there is a more symbiotic relationship among the inhabitants who are left, the ones who understand the Gift. A Lady can only take so much, and then philosophies and politics and economies and governments and borders and democracies and religions become whispers lost in the wind, tiny echoes of old growth, the shedding of old skin, of arrogance.

Posted 3 years, 6 months ago at 4:28 pm.

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“Remember, Little One”

Oil on canvas – 28” x 42”

Remember, Little One
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This is a painting of one of my favorite photographs. The Mother and Daughter were imagined in. I’m trying to teach myself how to paint real landscapes, like you would see here on Earth. I’m always fascinated by the way our mind continues the interpretation of what our eyes see, sometimes giving a painting a greater reality that doesn’t actually exist on the canvas. We see some dabs of paint and all of a sudden we know exactly what it is, a flower, grass, a fence, even the exact type of flower, and that is what we see. I even fooled myself! I adjusted the strokes until I saw what I wanted to see. Is that what we do with our thoughts, adjust them until they meet our needs? Do we need to differentiate our personal strokes from others in order to feel that we actually exist? To feel separate? To feel safe in a confusing world? I’ll leave that to the Mother to explain to her daughter.

Posted 3 years, 6 months ago at 9:10 am.

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