This page expresses my unceasing devotion to beauty, creativity and the deep language of "soul". I am an artist by profession; however, I love art so much that I would draw, paint and write even if I was the last human left on the planet.

Most of the paintings displayed here have been sold; prints can be arranged, though, for a reasonable price. Some originals are still available, and I do accept commissions. These days, I also accept chickens, butter and clothing (and other goods and services) in lieu of typical currency. :)

I will post paintings as they are finished and as space allows; please SCROLL DOWN or see the archives to view all of them.

If you are interested in a purchase, please contact me directly at: aka.rhiannon@gmail.com.


Tuesday, January 12, 2010

"Comfort", oil on canvas, private collection

The Path of Devotion

Maybe midlife, and I’m still trying to hide
the worst of the scars, while
forgetting, more and more, what they look like.
The world doesn’t care, and toughly, tenderly
breathes me, in each moment,
bringing stories and pictures, green grass
and the smell of wet cedar.
Even when I imagined my abandonment or my prison,
the world arose with me each morning and
lay down to rest or restlessness
with me each night.
It became the door I locked
or the key in my hand,
it loves me that much.

When I wanted something to break
other than glass, life brought me,
a whole procession of breakable things
and promises and events.
Did I need layers to tear off in grief? It
cried large, ripping sobs,
rocked back and forth with me in isolation
on the saltwater sea in my eyes.
Had I honestly wanted to drown,
it would have shaped itself
around me that way, rushed into my lungs
and every pore, until I was
perfectly saturated.
It loves me that much.

Form after form, thought after thought, age after age
is this devotion.
I must have felt it, somewhere,
I must have known it was wiser than I.
There has always been some tiny shrine
for me to go, to see if this
is true…
it loves me so much.

"Canyon Goddess", oil on canvas, sold


I am the Ocean's daughter.
In my dream, the water has finally come.
I've descended through ashes, through the portal of my own footprint
into the underworld.

Risen from your breath and bled from your eyes,
I have carved new lines on the beautiful, ancient face always cast up
at the sky.
I am the lover-destroyer leaning upon
the greatest walls of stone and steel,
patiently filling every flaw, caressing away the hardest shell from the tender,
molten heart of this blessed Earth, whom
I carry to build upon her womb and fruit the hills and plains.
No bridge can span the width,
no dam can halt the flow
of this current.

I am the libation that cannot be grasped, but of which
you are ever born;
I will relax in your cupped hands,
conform to the shape of your mouth,
bathe away fear and float the innocent
within and upon me.
I sing to you in the rain and rivers,
rock through the waves as your
primal lullaby...the touches may be small
as mist or engulfing as a tide; give and take
by give and take, they change the shape
of this universe.

In my dream, the sun enters the day
through the West.
Water has split the great land
in two; there are new
shallow seas webbed by streams
and canals carrying boats filled with fruit
and rugs, herbs and animals of perennial wisdom.

I wade the late turquoise of afternoon
where the shoreline heals the wounds and the voices are few
and full.
Aquarius carries me on his strong back
tipping the vessel from then to now.
Empty your cup; pour it out
as an offering.

"Mussels and Cherries", oil on canvas, sold

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