Orphans... Limited Edition Print
Each hand-signed and numbered reproduction is printed using archival inks on the finest quality, heavyweight acid free paper.
Included with each print is a signed, embossed certificate of authenticity and the painting back label story.
This edition will be limited to a maximum of 200 prints. Framing is not included.
Included with each print is a signed, embossed certificate of authenticity and the painting back label story.
This edition will be limited to a maximum of 200 prints. Framing is not included.
Orphans... limited edition print
Print size 19" X 10.5" (Image area 8.5" X 17") price includes taxes and shipping. Please allow time for "Buy Now" page to load...
$
120.00
The back label story...
Mia surveys the shoreline for critters. She’s 11 years old here, in July in the summer of 2008. I’ve brought Mia, her cousin Jasmine, and my daughters Charlotte and Sarah to Clover Point in Victoria, BC, for a play on the beach and a kite-flying session ... breeze permitting.
The creatures of the tidal zone are foreign and fascinating. They move strangely, and some actually breath water. For a kid, it’s life that exists on the thin edge of mysterious and unexplored depths.
It’s my personal opinion that tiny crabs were put on this earth for children to hunt. The problem is that they quite often want to keep them as pets. As adults, we recognize that their odds of survival, for more than a few hours, are slim. The best advice I can give other Dads, in such a situation, is to remind your kids that the little crabs have Mommies and Daddies, too. “If you take them away from their homes,” might be the reasoning, “you’ll make them orphans. And their parents will be very sad to lose them, just like your Mommy and Daddy would be sad to lose you, too.”
At least it works at this age ... a little older, and they might not buy it.
When it comes to one of our most important roles – teaching our children to respect nature and life – empathy is a vital tool. And that increased sensitivity is, I think, the best hope for our own survival. Mark Heine
Mia surveys the shoreline for critters. She’s 11 years old here, in July in the summer of 2008. I’ve brought Mia, her cousin Jasmine, and my daughters Charlotte and Sarah to Clover Point in Victoria, BC, for a play on the beach and a kite-flying session ... breeze permitting.
The creatures of the tidal zone are foreign and fascinating. They move strangely, and some actually breath water. For a kid, it’s life that exists on the thin edge of mysterious and unexplored depths.
It’s my personal opinion that tiny crabs were put on this earth for children to hunt. The problem is that they quite often want to keep them as pets. As adults, we recognize that their odds of survival, for more than a few hours, are slim. The best advice I can give other Dads, in such a situation, is to remind your kids that the little crabs have Mommies and Daddies, too. “If you take them away from their homes,” might be the reasoning, “you’ll make them orphans. And their parents will be very sad to lose them, just like your Mommy and Daddy would be sad to lose you, too.”
At least it works at this age ... a little older, and they might not buy it.
When it comes to one of our most important roles – teaching our children to respect nature and life – empathy is a vital tool. And that increased sensitivity is, I think, the best hope for our own survival. Mark Heine
