Kingfisher

A painting arrived today from New Zealand: “Winter kingfisher tucked on a wire as I sway.” And it’s taken over the house with its joy. Sudden, wild, vivid. The paint in thick whorls mimicking the rough surface of rocks and wind. The rugged terrain of the Port Hills above Christchurch. Wayne Seyb painted it not long after we visited him there last year. I was traveling to all the places I could to see more of Anna Caselberg’s work. Wayne told us the best view of the landscape around Christchurch was to take the gondola to the top of Mount Cavendish. From there you could see the vast expanse of ocean and mountains and plains. We rode the gondola up and scrambled around on frozen rocks and meadows at the top. Wayne painted a series of paintings from the top of the hills, carrying his wooden case of canvases and a backpack of paints and brushes up the gondola. When he was at the top he would walk until he found a new viewpoint. Sometimes people would stop and watch him paint. Some of the energy of those mountains and that Southern Ocean is in my living room now. Violent and beautiful. The kingfisher transformed into pure light.