In the stillness of a summer moonlit night, shadows define bright branches and sandstone beach rocks. The black sea sighs and mutters and leaves flicker with the passing of a fugitive breath of air.
In winter these islands show a cold and sometimes forbidding face but then we know where we stand. Here now, all is illusion that dances before our eyes, magic and spells.
A branch snaps and drifts to the ground. What was that? All our instincts say run but we are frozen on enchanted ground. Candlestick Cove.
I made this image using printer's ink rolled out on glass and then drawn into with reference to my sketch of Candlestick Cove at Nose Point, Saltspring island. I took a mono-print from the wet ink surface and then adjusted and modified it using a felt tip pen, ink washes and fine lines of white watercolour paint.
I was thinking about the many faces the Gulf Islands present to us, about the long history of First Nations among the islands, the short period of settler occupation and about my own spooky experiences while anchored in dark coves.