Amazing things happen.
Afterglow is honestly one of the most spectacular feats in lighting I've ever seen.
For an even better appreciation for just how impressive this undertaking was, read about the making of the film right HERE.
|Kelley Hensing Revenge of the Wild oil on panel|
I consider myself a lover of nature. To explore a forest, to watch wild animals in their environments, and to admire their uniqueness, reflects our origins as humans and inspires in me a sense of divine mystery. At the same time, I see how we dominate these beautiful things and put them to personal use. We’ve altered animals to serve us, we mow down entire landscapes to enable more humans to thrive. In the process we often distort and cripple nature in our wake. Because I’m not the one personally doing these things I somehow feel exonerated, but this is the big red curtain that feels more comfortable left in place. I enjoy meat almost every day without connecting with where it came from or how it got to my table. I allow someone else to birth hoards of animals and to do the slaughter for me. Yet I recoil at the thought of killing something, and donate money to save pets that have no homes. For myself and many of us this is an unintended hypocrisy, and in defense of being human we have a right to thrive. Yet now that we’ve become experts in human survival, I feel it’s vital for the long-term existence of ourselves and the plants and animals around us that we begin rekindling a true reverence for the natural world. The best way I know how to communicate this is through my artwork.
I recall a moment a few years ago where a pigeon was fanned out in death against some pebbles. The combination of beauty and decay was distinct, fascinating. I took it’s picture. Death must have been invisible to me before, because now these dead and dying birds began showing up on my radar. I started documenting them. I found one under an overpass that someone had swaddled in paper towels. Another was half alive and half buried in leaves in a gutter. A good number of the deceased were indirectly donated by Mitsou the cat. It occurred to me, while these birds were experiencing their final moments of life, most of us living were walking right by, unaware that a solitary ending was taking place. This began suggesting all sorts of tangents about death to me, both in a personal way and in the view of the human experience as a whole. Will someone be around to care when it’s my time? I wonder if it will be violent or peaceful? Does anything happen after that? Birds are a seemingly universal symbol for the human spirit, so as I amassed my somewhat morbid collection, the artist in me began searching for ways to turn this into art. The appropriate place turned up when I found a way of merging the bird portraits with a related concept I’d been waiting to create of a divine death tree. The result is “The Tree Where the Birds Go To Die”.
|The Tree Where the Birds Go To Die Kelley Hensing oil on panel|
|Kelley Hensing Paradox oil on panel|
|Kelley Hensing The Venus Twins graphite drawing|
|Kelley Hensing Parcae- Three Fates oil on panel|