Thursday, August 30, 2012



 A Moon Poem
by Edgar Allan Poe

I saw thee once- once only- years ago:
I must not say how many- but not
It was a July midnight; and from out
A full-orbed moon, that like thine own
soul soaring,
Sought a precipitate pathway up through
There fell a silvery silken veil of light,
With quietude, and sultriness and
Upon the upturn'd faces of a thousand
Roses that grew in an enchanted garden,
Where no wind dared to stir, unless on
Fell on the upturn'd faces of these
That gave out, in return for the love-
Their odorous souls in an ecstatic
Fell on the upturned faces of these
That smiled and died in this parterre,
by thee, and by the poetry of thy
Clad all in white, upon a violet bank
I saw thee half-reclining; while the
Fell on the upturn'd faces of the roses,
And on thine own, upturn'd- alas, in
Was it not Fate, that, on this July mid-
Was it not Fate (whose name is also
That bade me pause before that garden-
To breathe the incense of those slum-
bering roses?
No footstep stirred: the hated world
all slept,
Save only thee and me. I paused- I
And in an instant all things disap-
(Ah, bear in mind this garden was
The pearly lustre of the moon went
The mossy banks and the meandering
The happy flowers and the repining
Were seen no more: the very roses'
Died in the arms of the adoring airs.
All- all expired save thee- save less
than thou:
Save only the devine light in thine
I saw but them- they were the world
to me.
I saw but them- saw only them for
Saw only them till the moon went
What wild heart-histories seemed to lie
Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres!
How dark a woe! yet how sublime a
How silently serene a sea of pride!
How adoring an ambition! yet how
How fathomless a capacity for love!
But now, at length, dear Dian sank
from sight,
Into the western couch of a thunder-cloud;
And thou, a ghost, amid entombing
Didst glide away. only thine eyes
They would not go- they never yet
have gone.
Lighting my lonely pathway home that
They have not left me (as my hopes have) since.
They follow me- they lead me through
the years.
They are my ministers- yet I their
Their office is to illuminate and enkindle-
My duty, to be saved by their bright
And purified in their electric fire,
And sanctified in their elysian fire.
They fill my soul with Beauty (which
is Hope.)
And are far up in Heaven- the stars
I kneel to
In the sad, slient watches of my night;
While even in the meridian glare of day
I see them still- two sweetly scintillant
Venuses, unextinguished by the sun!


The Moon

by Emily Dickinson

The moon was but a chin of gold
A night or two ago,
And now she turns her perfect face
Upon the world below.
Her forehead is of amplest blond;
Her cheek like beryl stone;
Her eye unto the summer dew
The likest I have known.
Her lips of amber never part;
But what must be the smile
Upon her friend she could bestow
Were such her silver will!
And what a privilege to be
But the remotest star!
For certainly her way might pass
Beside your twinkling door.
Her bonnet is the firmament,
The universe her shoe,
The stars the trinkets at her belt,
Her dimities of blue.
Getting started on my 1913 project soon!!!

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

On a historical side note

Just got my hands on a book, the latest one written by Udo Sautter, my father, "Als die Franzosen Amerika entdeckten." It's about the French in Canada.  You can get a copy on Amazon:

In German, but check it out!

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Catching up!

Finally posting some figure drawings--I just finished drawing a session where there was a mother and daughter together--thought it would be stranger than fiction, but I actually liked how they worked together; there seemed to be visual continuity to their poses.

I am also posting stuff from the last few sessions--whew, it takes forever to shrink and upload these pictures--I've got to get back on weekly track!  My slew of drawings are all mixed together.  Here they are, with some random observations/comments:

Mother and daughter duo

Some great dreadlocks on this guy

Something about the above pose really 'draws' me in!

I was trying to get both figures in, but somehow meandered off to the left and found her gaze enthralling, and so focused on that

 This thoughtful glance also received all of my attention, as you can see by the unfinished bottom half!

Tuesday, August 21, 2012


And here's one of Boston at the docks...more cultural stuff to follow from Boston when I get through all the pics!


Sniffing the roses somewhere near the Greek Fest a couple of days ago...

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Walk Off The Earth Group Shot

The picture's finally here!  Walk Off The Earth sent us the group shot of their new video we filmed in Burlington, ON last weekend--the video's not out yet, but here is the picture we took after shooting.  I'm smack dab in the middle, two people over to the right from Gianni.  Good times!  Can't wait for the video!

Friday, August 17, 2012

Maybe wounds can heal...sometimes they fester!

I'm in the mood for some poetry...

Here are some dark, interesting poems I found a couple of months ago, while looking around in old books...

by Robert Herrick (1591-1674)

ONE silent night of late,
    When every creature rested,
Came one unto my gate
    And, knocking, me molested.

Who's that, said I, beats there,
    And troubles thus the sleepy?
Cast off, said he, all fear,
    And let not locks thus keep ye.

For I a boy am, who
    By moonless nights have swerved ;
And all with show'rs wet through,
    And e'en with cold half starved.

I pitiful arose,
    And soon a taper lighted ;
And did myself disclose
    Unto the lad benighted.

I saw he had a bow
    And wings, too, which did shiver ;
And, looking down below,
    I spied he had a quiver.

I to my chimney's shine
    Brought him, as love professes,
And chafed his hands with mine,
    And dried his drooping tresses.
But when he felt him warm'd :
Let's try this bow of ours,
And string, if they be harm'd,
    Said he, with these late showers.

Forthwith his bow he bent,
    And wedded string and arrow,
And struck me, that it went
    Quite through my heart and marrow.

Then, laughing loud, he flew
    Away, and thus said, flying :
Adieu, mine host, adieu,
    I'll leave thy heart a-dying.

Peter Paul Rubens. Venus Frigida, 1614. Detail.
Peter Paul Rubens. Venus Frigida, 1614.
From CGFA.

Herrick, Robert. Works of Robert Herrick. vol I.
Alfred Pollard, ed.
London, Lawrence & Bullen, 1891. 30-31.

Here Is A Wound That Never Will Heal, I Know

Here is a wound that never will heal, I know,
Being wrought not of a dearness and a death,
But of a love turned ashes and the breath
Gone out of beauty; never again will grow
The grass on that scarred acre, though I sow
Young seed there yearly and the sky bequeath
Its friendly weathers down, far Underneath
Shall be such bitterness of an old woe.
That April should be shattered by a gust,
That August should be levelled by a rain,
I can endure, and that the lifted dust
Of man should settle to the earth again;
But that a dream can die, will be a thrust
Between my ribs forever of hot pain.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
Thom Gunn, "The Wound"
The huge wound in my head began to heal
About the beginning of the seventh week.
Its valleys darkened, its villages became still:
For joy I did not move and dared not speak;
Not doctors would cure it, but time, its patient skill.

And constantly my mind returned to Troy.
After I sailed the seas I fought in turn
On both sides, sharing even Helen's joy
Of place, and growing up--to see Troy burn--
As I Neoptolemus, that stubborn boy.

I lay and rested as prescription said,
Manoevred with the Greeks, or sallied out
Each day with Hector.  Finally my bed
Became Achille's tent, to which the lout
Thersites came reporting members dead.

I was myself: subject to no man's breath.
My own commander was my enemy.
And while my belt hung up, sword in the sheath,
Thersites shambled in and breathlessly
Cackled about my friend Patroclus' death.

I called for armour, rose, and did not reel.
But, when I thought, rage at his noble pain
Flew into my head, and turning I could feel
My wound break open wide.
Over again I had to let those storm-lit valleys heal.

Kooky Song

I was looking in vain for another song that I just heard on the radio, with the lyrics, "Oh baby, you drive me crazy," but I couldn't find it.  Called the radio station in Toronto, even.  No luck.  So in my internetish travels I found this, mixed with some German.  Too funny, so I just had to post it.  Cheers.  (I couldn't post the official video, it was just too way out-there!!)

Monday, August 13, 2012

Walk Off The Earth

Just had an incredible weekend in Burlington, on the set of a new video by Walk Off The Earth!  They are really cool people, and I had a blast dancing in the wilderness!  Back to painting now, but I'll be sure to post whatever new news come up by way of social media!!!  Woohoo!!!  Carry on! 

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

New Song

Here's a really awesome song that I just heard for the first time; it's the UNCENSORED video version, so please beware before clicking to watch.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012


Just got back from drawing large horse murals in the sand at a rather abandoned beach; I felt a bit like a primitive cave painter!  Fun!  Truly 'art for art's sake.'  That's where it's all at. 

Yesterday afternoon I finished painting Jacelyn Brown, the keyboardist from Said the Whale, a great Canadian band.  I'm happy with the result; the cool background colours I chose fit right in with the atmosphere I had in mind.

"Jacelyn, Said the Whale, Ottawa Dragon Boat Festival 2012"
Oil on Canvas, 10x8 inches

For more information about the band, please click on the link below: