The Painting That Came True

Earlier this summer, a flock of American White Pelicans landed on my lake.

I stood and watched them for a long while — big, white, unhurried, resting on the water as though they had nowhere else in the world to be. If you follow the shop on Facebook, you may have already met them: I shared a photo of the flock back when it happened.

But there's a longer version of that story, and it starts before the pelicans ever arrived.

The quiet giants

You see, I had already painted them.

"American White Pelican" is one of my paintings — a mixed-media piece, all bold form and soft texture, my way of holding onto a bird I find quietly magnificent. If you know my shop for the jewellery, a painting might be a surprise. But to me it's all the same work: I take little bits and pieces of nature and create something to remind me what is important. To keep the connection alive. Sometimes those bits and pieces become a pendant. Sometimes they become a painting.

So the pelicans were already here, in their way — in bold strokes and soft edges — long before they came in person.

The day they came to visit

Then came that morning on the lake. The same quiet giants I'd already painted, floating just out from my shore, real as anything.

I did what any of us would do — I went for my camera. That photo of the real flock is the one I shared beside the painting when I first told this story, and I'll say now what I said then: it's a strange, lovely thing when your subject comes to visit you. Painters go looking for their subjects. It is much rarer for the subject to come looking for the painter.

I don't know how long they stayed after I finally went back inside. Wild things keep their own schedules.

The version that stays

The flock moved on, the way wild things do. But the painting stays — and because of the painting, the pelicans can stay too, in their own quiet way.

In the shop, you'll find "American White Pelican" as a fine-art print: a reproduction of my original mixed-media painting, printed on fine art paper, 16.5 × 22 cm — a friendly size to frame for a shelf or a gallery wall. And I'll be plain about what that means, because I like being plain about these things: my jewellery is one-of-one — there is only ever one of each piece. My prints are the deliberate exception. A painting takes its own long while to make, and a print is how one painting gets to live in more than one home.

If you'd like the version that stays, you'll find the pelican print in the shop, along with the rest of my artwork. And if you're ever standing by a lake when the pelicans arrive — stop a while and watch. Some visits are worth the pause.

— Geneen. Derwent, Alberta