Port Anna Bol



TITLE // Port Anna Bol
ARTIST // Jeffrey Bowman
SIZE // 36" x 36" x 1.5"
MEDIUM // oil and graphite on gallery wrapped canvas

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We followed the mountains outside Appalla for several days. The others seemed to buzz in and out of existence after the morning meditation we experienced. Giggles and a longer, quicker gate were just a few of its other effects. Hummer would put on his weird helmet and listen intently to his project. During the second night, he and Wizard had a talk. I call them talks regardless of anyone hearing anything. Hummer gave Wizard something out of his black bag and Wizard was gone. Things seem to stop while Wizard is off doing his secret adventures. Maybe that's when the magic happens. It's still more of a myth here.

We crossed the same river a thousand times while following its banks. The mountain range on either side of the river seemed to take turns pushing us in the cold vein that separated the two giants. We would swim to the next side and continue along its bank. We would continue to walk and just as we were drying off the other range would push us back into cross once more. I swear I thought they were somehow in cahoots with each other. Some of the others grumbled more than I did. Hummer seemed to have the heaviest bag to lift and keep dry. Maker was frustrated and seemed to be looking for something to aid us in our travels. His efforts were applauded. However, the lack of any real material was his victor. If we only had a wizard to make us a raft.

Wizard started stopping more and more frequent. He would listen intensely, almost like an attack. An attack on the army of silence we thought we were being surrounded by. We didn’t make a sound when he would stop, we were fast learners. We would look at each other hoping to catch a reaction. It reminded me of a stand-off. We stood there, damp and exhausted trying to catch one another hearing something the others couldn’t. That went on all day until we finally settled in for the night. It was the furthest we’ve been from the river for days. Wizard told us we would be here for a few days. I am not sure how he told us but we all knew and it was welcomed. We set up camp, dug the tent spikes in deep enough for two sunsrises.

We woke up to Wizard talking about the great winged giants. He used his staff to point at the circling creatures flying overhead. I was grateful that I couldn’t see them, by his arm movements there seemed to be lots of them. Big ones too. He jumped from rock to rock. Keeping his arms up, stuttering periodic sentences that sometimes registered. The other sentences escaped me and undoubtedly rose up to greet the apparitions he was seeing.

He calmed down a bit and gathered himself. He began an introspective dialog. While I didn’t understand all of it, I understood the tone. This was something romantic. It was then that Dye must have been attacked by his muse at that moment. Or possibly one of the wing giants Wizard was telling us about. He flung back and quickly ran to a clearing with his canvas.

Hummer slowly placed little sculptures all around the camp. Long black wires connected them to one another. He was behind his console of buttons and with his weird little helmet ready for lift off. An adventure was brewing.

The others stood quietly, taking it all in. Dye was done in a day or so, he began his backward march. I walked up to the canvas and looked. The canvas seemed to have a texture about it different from the others. He explained to me that traveling through the river and rocks the canvas absorbed some of the texture of its surroundings. I looked at him squarely and gave him a look. A look I hoped would demand a true explanation of a canvas “absorbing its surroundings”. Dye took out one of his brushes and waved it like a wand. “Abracadabra”, I thought.

The painting was of the mountain range across from our camp. The river seemed more like a lake. From Dye’s perspective, the river was hidden by a small hill. He let the river run off the bottom of the canvas. It didn't seem to bother him or take away from the piece. The colors seemed to be the focus. The mountain didn’t have a color, it was more of a color pallet. Again, not trusting my eyes. The painting was about the feeling we all felt during Wizard’s performance. That there is an obstacle we all will face. Hummer tried to capture the buzz that was in the air still lingering from Wizard's story. The creatures symbolized the hurdles he had to face and we used the mountain range to symbolize that. I guess I should say, Dye did that. He also named the piece after our camp for those few days, Port Anna Bol. My part of this adventure is done.

-- Ready for translation.


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// Packaging //

For buyers in the United States, stretched canvas paintings are carefully wrapped in glassine paper and bubble wrap, then packed securely in custom-built boxes (using recycled materials when possible) for shipping within 3-5 days of order.

For international buyers, stretched canvas paintings will be removed from the frame, carefully wrapped in glassine paper and plastic, and shipped in a tube within 3-5 days of order. Your local fine art framing specialist can provide options for hanging the work, from re-stretching to custom framing.

// Shipping //

Depending on location, artwork will be shipped via UPS, USPS, or FedEx with sufficient insurance and tracking. Your signature will be required to confirm delivery.

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If we cannot resolve any issues that arise with your order, we will accommodate cash or credit refunds within 10 days of purchase receipt. Buyers would be responsible for the safe return shipping of the artwork within 10 days before a return is processed.


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