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Three Time Travellers

I have recently finished three new works on wood.

As you can see, they are a sudden contrast to some of my other works on canvas. Where are the vibrant, bouncy colours? Where is the hint of sunset? The dance of lines traveling from one side to the other?



A little over a year ago, I found myself laying on my living room floor, staring at the ceiling, listening to a song on repeat. The music led me into a tick-tocking. Back and forth, over a wave, and under. My head fell back. It arose in me a cradling sensation, as though I was being rocked and reassured. It felt familiar and beautiful. I could feel some kind of loss all over again, but it was different this time- it felt like release.


mark rothko canvas art school angie marchinkow art artist abstract artist kelowna british columbia
Circa 2013. The easel I was given in college, and a piece of canvas stretched with binder clips over a piece of MDF. On it, my rendition of Mark Rothko's "Green Over Blue".

I have been working on these three, officially, since about 2013. Back when my studio was the back corner of the apartment I shared with my then-husband. There was little room for me to grow. Plenty of room in the apartment, but not for me. The second bedroom was his studio, and my space was to be anywhere I could fit.


This is not a post to shame anyone, this is not a note of anger or resentment. This is the expression of the absolute beauty in our expansion. The corner that became my entire life. The enclosing that brought me deeper into myself. A sinking that brought me to a place where I could see the glimmer above.

The three pieces on wood have lived in my mind since I painted in the corner of that carpeted living room, sharing the corner with the protruding air conditioner. When I first dreamed these works, I had attempted to place paint on a canvas, and it felt unfulfilled. A partial thought, the wrong colours. I felt naive.


It was not until 2021 when I first heard the beautiful song by Cultus (aka Andrew Judah, who is now my partner)- a song titled "He Knows How". I encourage you to listen to the song while looking at these pieces, to enjoy a piece of my connection.


This sinking. I could remember this feeling in any of my darkest days- among darkness, a light. Always there, up above the surface. The sun that rises every day, no matter how many clouds we see. The flooding rain that brings green.


This is a light I can only see when I put my bullshit aside. No wallowing, no pouting, kicking, screaming. A silence.


Stillness.


Only in stillness I can sink so deeply, to see this glimmer.


I put myself here.


I am here because I have let it all go. Something has released and this is the result. This weight is good. It's beautiful. A reminder that I am free. I am loved.


And this darkness- an expression of divine opportunity. How will I shine my light? How do I shine my light? Depth, not darkness. Release, not emptiness. Opportunity, not loss.


The beautiful, profound understanding that

there is

no

loss.


When you sink, release. Open your eyes. You have arrived.

There are flickers and dancing rays to enjoy from the soft seafloor.



“Seafloor I”, 24” x 36”, Acrylic on wood.


“Seafloor II”, 24” x 36”, Acrylic on wood.


“Seafloor III”, 24” x 36”, Acrylic on wood.


These pieces can be sold together or individually. In-person viewing is available.


These paintings are paired with the song “He Knows How” by Cultus, available on all music streaming services. I encourage you to listen to the song while looking at these pieces, for a deeper interpretation. A song I discovered and painted from, before I knew the artist.


The paintings I could see, before I knew the artist within.


It feels good to finally be meeting them in person.


- Angie