The Owls are Not what They Seem.

"And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon." edward lear

I finished this piece just in time for the Deuce Double Aught Nine Opening at PoetHouse last week...
Though the title refers to a very sinister, yet comical, david lynch series- it is really a portrait of the husband. I mentioned the fact earlier, when I had it about seventy percent completed, but now that it is finished- I figured I would post the final piece.

This one started as a pen and ink last winter, playing with filigree patterns and the idea of idealizing a tangle of foliage. The owl, besides a good nickname, has such a huge amount of myth attached to it- sinister, wise, mystical, spiritual, postal. I researched several stories, thought about the owl's role in the Pooh Stories, in the Potter books, in native american totems, in Labryinth. My favorite reference has to be Lear's story of the pea green boat and the Owl's love for the Pussycat- no matter how mismatched and odd the pairing. And so narrative became portrait.