Grandmother Owl

This piece was inspired by a dream I had a couple of years ago. I was on the shore of Lake Superior, where I grew up. A great horned owl was flying overhead. “Granddaughter, fly with me,” she said, so I did. She led me north along the shore, past rocky cliffs, pebble beaches, bays and islands. I had a feeling she was going to show me something important. We flew and flew, and the sun got lower and lower in the sky. Finally we came to a place with beautiful rocks and natural arches, flashing brilliant, deep jewel tones in the red sunset light, the water whispering calmly. I felt awed by the sight and the sparkling silence, and we circled and swooped in this amazing place. “It’s so beautiful here,” I said to Grandmother Owl. “What does it mean?” She began to laugh. “What does it mean? It is beautiful because it is. Meaning is something made up by small creatures with short lives.”

6 x 6 inches, oil and colored pencil on gessoboard