Heading back from the Ojibway, through the little channel, there is a tree. I don’t know how long it has been there or when it died, but it always holds fascination for me. The way it twists, where bark still clings to its surface, and the way the routes still hold fast to the rocks. With the forest alive behind, the little channel feels peaceful, away from the bustle of the Ojibway docks, where things slow down.
Acrylic on cradled birch panel, 11” x 14” x 1 ½”.
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