Wind Waves

When fearless weighted vessels weave their way out to the Strait of Georgia, I look to the horizon line. I listen to hear and recall the lapping of waves against 'the edge of a a mysterious ledge'.  A piece of sacred Musquem land where first peoples made their homes. Garry Point Park, Steveston in supernatural British Columbia, Canada.

I perceived and understood in coming to know the late Alberto Replanski (1948-2008). Sculptors make mental efforts to mete out their skill to turn ideas into physical matter. Thus, I welcomed Madame Yvonne Domenge's Wind Waves as an icon of the Fraser River. Here chemistry of perfect scientific processes meet matter. They speak a riveting word that characterizes this period of my life. Wind Waves symbolizes movement and exchange of energy. Her gesture uninterrupted embodies the eternal waves of the Salish sea.

Life is water; whose movement we see in waves. Wherein the rivulets form pushed by an invisible power. The sound of the waves captures silent language every human can understand. A sculptor's chosen medium of bronze and elemental medium. is the colour of blood, the force of life exists in every human in the wind and waves and life is in the blood. Playful and cunning Wind Waves sat poised for a time on this beloved piece of land. She assaulted sensibilities and challenged ideas about public art, it's uses and misuses. She interrupted solace and solitude, our happy relationship with this geography we adore.

Water is life and in Wind Waves I see an embryo. The circular form of a human cell thrums and vibrates to the rhythm of an ongoing dance. Martha Graham, American dancer and creator of dances remarked: “Movement never lies”. Her father specialized in human psychology. If an artwork; private or public mark a significant period in one's life or represent a rite of passage? This Wind Waves has become a iconic sign in mine. A kind of visual insignia or brand. A reminder of the force of life, its invisible power and all that it demands in my relationships, and art making.

Imagine going to the seashore or down by the river. Take time to revel in the gift of a wave, be present to the wind the movement of the water beneath and around you. Close your eyes for a moment and listen to the power of rushing water and howling wind. Slow down to notice a remarkable mysterious presence that defies naming. The supernatural wonder of water stirs imagination.

At Garry Point the wind is fierce and unrelenting. It's course registers white caps on the waves of the Fraser River. Heaving like a serpent and rising from the depths it swells with a perilous treachery. As the storm whips the delicate Japanese Cherry trees into a frenzy, my studio 217 windows rattle. The squall reaches a fury descending into silence. The next paroxysm; releases a series of convulsions erupting into endless cycles. Like a woman's rhythm, the residuum never sleeps Like a woman’s rhythm the residuum never sleeps and is a spheroid.