“Nightmare Tracks” by Catherine Raine, 2010
I wasn’t sure what I was doing with this piece. I had no plan, just a ladle and a desire to dollop wax on the substrate. Later, I added smaller blobs with a brush and applied fake-jewel stickers.
“Nightmare Tracks” by Catherine Raine, 2010
“Nightmare Tracks” by Catherine Raine, 2010
Inner Map (Non-Political) by Catherine Raine, 2010
“Sushi Wax Cake” keeps on giving! This current piece, “Inner Map (Non-Political),” was inspired by the huge pile of shavings from the wax cake. I simply arranged the shavings on the support and melted them down again. Much was the scraping, scratching, ironing, re-shaping, and heat-gunning. I also did a little brush work here and there.
Inner Map (Non-Political) by Catherine Raine 2010
Inner Map (Non-Political) by Catherine Raine, 2010
After more than six years of service, I recently resigned from an organization that helps survivors of torture and war. It was a tough decision, and I’m going to miss my students a lot.
I’d like to dedicate the following poem to them. I wrote it in 2007, and it was published in the Winter 2009 edition of First Light Journal: Canadian Centre for Victims of Torture.
Trauma lives in your skin
an invisible twin,
a script of scars that freeze
silent horror scenes on replay
The demons that stalk you evade photographs
and only you can say where they keep the keys to your cell.
But an attentive friend can apprehend,
around the corners of conversations,
pale threads of the shroud that veils your suffering.
Your shadow reveals his choices
when you sit where you can check who enters the room,
when the words loss, lost, have lost
and death, dead, have died
pitch you into a private hell.
A tragedy we read in The Toronto Star
sets the ghosts to whispering “Remember, remember!”
what you want with all your strength to forget.
Quick to take offense,
your pain flashes out in bitter responses
that the sensible call extreme
but the sensitive know
arise from the depths of your rage
at the cruelty of dogmatists, thugs, criminals in uniform.
Trauma haunts you but also gives courage a voice,
exhaling stories that pull you to the surface,
intact and shining with resilience.
Let me introduce you to “River Beast.” This painting was my first attempt at encaustic art, and recently I tried to improve it. The central blue beast has many layers, including bits of textured paper covered by melted wax shavings from “Sushi Wax Cake.”
“River Beast” by Catherine Raine, 2010
“River Beast” by Catherine Raine, 2010
My encaustic class has finished, so I’ve been spending some time doctoring up the seven pieces I started there. Here’s the latest one, “Tropical Mermaid.”
“Tropical Mermaid” by Catherine Raine, 2010
For the outline of the wax mermaid, I placed a magazine picture of a reclining model on the beeswax-coated wooden base. Then I traced the photo in black wax and pulled the paper away. I filled in the mermaid with green, red, and brown.
“Tropical Mermaid” by Catherine Raine, 2010
For the sun’s rays, I used curls of wax that I’d shaved from another piece, “Sushi Wax Cake.” The flower petals and the base of the mermaid’s crown also originated from former shavings. Finally, I rolled up more yet shavings into little blobs to make the wavy shapes and the nodules on the crown.
“Tropical Mermaid” by Catherine Raine, 2010
“Tropical Mermaid” by Catherine Raine, 2010
I was sitting in my armchair putting stickers on a parcel when my husband told me about the cross-bow attack at Main Street Library. Shocked and sickened, I had difficulty comprehending that such violence could happen in a place of learning, desecrating its peace.
When I visited Main Street branch for my library blog project three months ago, I took pictures of a quilt, an attic window, and a lobby lined with strollers. Now, cognitive dissonance confounds my mind, for even though innocent images like these cannot possibly co-exist with the site of a murder, I am also aware that terrible events do occur in sites that should be safe. The traumatic story behind the patricide is devastating, and I am sad for the witnesses who saw what nobody should ever have to see.
“Sushi Wax Cake” by Catherine Raine, 2010
Would you like to eat this cake? Tempting, but not recommended!
“Sushi Wax Cake” by Catherine Raine, 2010
To make the poured wax piece, I constructed four walls for the border (using strips of wax), made some barriers in different shapes in the middle, and then poured in mixtures of paint and wax. Later I ironed the surface and scraped some layers off the top. (Shavings shown below!)
Pile of Wax Shavings from “Sushi Wax Cake”
In addition to the wax heap, I was fascinated by the individual curls of wax that the scraper produced.
Wax Curls!