Esmeralda

Esmeralda, acrylic, 24 x 24

Elizabeth W. Seaver

"What a perfect day for a bike ride," Esmeralda thought.  As she pedaled her sleek gray bicycle down the sidewalk, she felt the wind whistling through her feathers.  For a moment, she worried that she'd lose a feather from her jaunty, new spring bonnet, but the day was too splendid to waste even one minute of it worrying about a little thing like that.

Just that morning, her father presented her with a new golden bike horn which sported a squishy bulb on one end.  When she mashed the bulb, a lovely aoogah-squeakah-squeakah sound burbled out.  She and her dad spent a pleasant half hour together while he showed her how to attach the horn just under her handlebars.

Now, she zoomed towards Runella's house to aoogah-squeakah-squeakah at her as she rode by.

Runella would be so jealous!

Off to Work

Off to Work, collage/acrylic, 8 x 24

Elizabeth W. Seaver

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Lounge singer, circus performer and umpire pedal off to earn their daily bread.  They leave no carbon footprint, only tire tracks.  As you can see, entertainment is big in the bird world.  

While cleaning out my grandmother's attic, I stumbled upon a wee portal into that avian sanctuary.  After years of observation and trust building, followed by hours of negotiation, the secretive denizens of Avianopolis have allowed me to carry out snapshots of life there.

Stay tuned for more. 

Emmaline

Emmaline, acrylic on wood panel, 6 x 6

Elizabeth W. Seaver

Emmaline had big news--HUGE, in fact.  The circus train had just arrived at the station, and she watched as a red-nosed clown jumped off the still-moving caboose to post a notice on the bulletin board.  Emmaline pushed her way forward to read it.  There it was!   Tryouts for local circus extras would begin at nine the next morning.

She had to find her best friend, Aloysius.  Emmaline knew how much it meant to him to join the circus one day.  On top of that, he had the costume, and he'd practiced so hard for the high wire.  

Tomorrow might be the day.

Aloysius

Aloysius, collage/acrylic, 6 x 6 x 3

Elizabeth W. Seaver
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Aloysius loved the circus.  To his parents' dismay, he disdained ordinary little bird clothes.  No t-shirts and jeans for Aloysius.  No, he rode his bicycle all around town wearing tights and sequined spandex.  

He dreamed of being discovered by circus scouts.  He imagined that when he was begged to join that traveling band of sparkling acrobats, he'd be so accomplished a rider, they'd invite him to pedal the tightrope.

Real Bird

Real Bird, 8 x 16, mixed media w/acrylic on canvas

Elizabeth W. Seaver

Please enlarge the image to see the details.  I sewed around the painted patches, and the eye is a button.

The idea for this painting was fueled by my belief that it is love which makes us real--love that we give and love that we receive in communities, families and relationships.  Check out The Velveteen Rabbit, by Margery Williams, for my literary inspiration.

Nice End to the Year!

Going My Way, acrylic, 18 x 36 by Elizabeth W. Seaver

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Lovely folks bought this painting on the last day of 2011, making a very nice conclusion to a great year.

Sir Walter in the Reeds

Sir Walter in the Reeds, acrylic, 48 x 60

Elizabeth W. Seaver

When Walter's mate had been alive, they'd danced every day.  Walter and Agatha loved to dance.  

If the weeds at the bottom of their pond were imbued with an especially tasty crunch that day, the two would dive deep to the bottom, grab a mouthful, then rise to munch and dance on the surface of the water.  Necks twisting this way and that, they'd sail in a circle, feet pumping to lift them up, with a wing assist.  

If one of their many offspring had been especially clever, Agatha and Walter would show their appreciation for its wit or accomplishment with a double pirouette, wings flapping and tails shaking.  

They often hosted parties to celebrate the magnificent sunsets on their bank of the pond.  Couples came from all over the marsh to shimmy and wriggle and writhe.

Now, Walter's heart weighed as much as that stone he'd tried to move when Agatha wanted to place their nest just there.  He'd been so lonely he just couldn't dance.  He could only sit in the reeds and remember his graceful mate.

Just then, the reeds whispered.  They writhed and shimmied in the early morning light.  Walter listened closely.  

When they quieted for a moment, he bent his long neck down towards the marsh grasses. "Excuse me.  What did you say?" he asked, being a polite sort of bird.

The reeds answered, "Daaannnncccce.  Dance with usssss."

Walter's heart eased, not quite so heavy as before.  He closed his eyes.  He took a deep breath.  He swayed gently at first.  In response, the reeds swished and twisted.  Walter shook his head and bobbed it up and down.  He shimmied and wriggled, sitting there amongst the companionable reeds.

And Agatha whispered, "Dance, my love.  Dance."