Near and Far
24" X 48" oil on canvas
Original art is sold
Basking in the late afternoon sun on the viewpoint of Mount Tolmie in Victoria in June 2006. This is my youngest daughter, Sarah, then seven, and her friend Jasmine, eight – best friends. A soft blanket of fog is draped over the downtown buildings, and it splits the horizon between Victoria and the distant Sooke hills.
A month ago, Sarah and my oldest daughter, Charlotte, who is now 13, went to live up-Island in Qualicum Beach. Today, as I write this, they are making their first return trip to Victoria, to spend the weekend with my partner Lisa and I. This is my first painting since their move.
The symbolism, in this painting, of the two girls’ distant gaze seems to sum up my feelings about the distance that has been placed between us. Sarah and Charlotte are starting a new life in a new place, with people I will never know. And because the new experiences they have can’t be shared firsthand, our worlds will now be completely split between their lives here and their lives in Qualicum. I want them to be happy and have a nice home with friends, pets to love and parks to play in. They seem to have that. I just can’t be part of that side of their lives.
What can’t be changed must be accepted. Whatever the distance, I’m still their father, and they know that I love them. What they probably don’t know is how often I think of them and how much I miss them. I paint and write about them to keep them close in my life, and so that they will know me and the feelings I have ... I miss you. You’re never far from me. Dad
24" X 48" oil on canvas
Original art is sold
Basking in the late afternoon sun on the viewpoint of Mount Tolmie in Victoria in June 2006. This is my youngest daughter, Sarah, then seven, and her friend Jasmine, eight – best friends. A soft blanket of fog is draped over the downtown buildings, and it splits the horizon between Victoria and the distant Sooke hills.
A month ago, Sarah and my oldest daughter, Charlotte, who is now 13, went to live up-Island in Qualicum Beach. Today, as I write this, they are making their first return trip to Victoria, to spend the weekend with my partner Lisa and I. This is my first painting since their move.
The symbolism, in this painting, of the two girls’ distant gaze seems to sum up my feelings about the distance that has been placed between us. Sarah and Charlotte are starting a new life in a new place, with people I will never know. And because the new experiences they have can’t be shared firsthand, our worlds will now be completely split between their lives here and their lives in Qualicum. I want them to be happy and have a nice home with friends, pets to love and parks to play in. They seem to have that. I just can’t be part of that side of their lives.
What can’t be changed must be accepted. Whatever the distance, I’m still their father, and they know that I love them. What they probably don’t know is how often I think of them and how much I miss them. I paint and write about them to keep them close in my life, and so that they will know me and the feelings I have ... I miss you. You’re never far from me. Dad