I'd not seen many butternut trees, nor had I heard them talked about much. One summer, I returned to Ormstown, QC where I had lived for 9 years, and stayed in a little house. In the front yard was this tree. Long dead yet still firmly in the ground.
On this journey I had all my painting supplies and I set about painting in different places. One place was at the house. The open skies of blue is a recurring theme in much of my work. I can't say that the blue is the same each time, it is similar though. I have the dead butternut, the dead birch, the tree tops, the towering pine that come to mind at the moment.
The owner of this work hangs it in their kitchen on a wall of white where it provides a spot for the eye to gravitate towards. It is a piece that the eye lingers in.
