Mahaloness

Contemporary artist specializing in full spectrum painting, mural, animation and digital hybrid art.


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eyes open

Does art create the landscape, or does the landscape create the art? I woke up to this thought after a dream that was more real than real. Maybe it was the day before and seeing a loved one go into a completely vulnerable and helpless state. Maybe it is the confusion of the world, and the deterioration of humanity looming overhead as a giant mass of grey and gloom. However I remain aware that the behind the grey, the sky is blue, and the sun is shining. Life moves in ripples, waves travelling from far off places, some predictable, while others catching me by surprise. I know that I can’t always get the words right, to describe what’s happening, to make sense of a landscape that vanishes under a thick veil of fog. A kingfisher creates loud short shrieking sounds that wake me up to the moment, no mind, nothing; halfway. The fog lifts and the landscape appears, the same as what I remember, but different from the last moment it was visible. Resembling a loved one, the same person I have known my whole life, yet different from the day before, and the the day before that. Seasons change. People change, same spirit, life goes on. I look far into distance, the more I see the more I don’t see. I imagine all the people who are seeing what I am seeing, feeling what I am feeling. Do they see the same clouds, and the crack of light that breaks the horizon? I say to myself, the sun will shine again, the creation of the landscape of what’s to come. Mother Earth shows me the way, the fog dissipates, the child within smiles bright, the shadows in my head disappear, half way.

Thank for reading, it has been a bit since getting the chance to sit and write. Perhaps this is a new chapter, new ideas, new thoughts, and opening up of the vault kept private and protected. I may not have all the right words, they’ll come, slowly, and patiently. 

And now a minicine (mini cinema, which is longer versions of my minimotions, which are one minute in length) It is titled ‘water bombers’ with soundscape ‘hälts first day on the accordian’. I am happy to say I will be increasing my production value, which includes sound, creating title sequences and so on, this gets my fire going, winter will not bee boring. Ands now, water bombers…

There was a man who was a restless spirit. A Nomad travelling in sync with the landscape’s song.

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fog dissipating
soaring
windsurfer

In the garden…

the last rose
at night
the last queen

In the garage make shift art studio.

winter prep
a collaboration between myself and my mom
recently I picked up my painting SLO, back to work I will go….

Outside explarations…

landscape
creating in landscape, but who makes who?


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existing

At night, I can hear Earth’s voice clearly, free from the sounds of engines roaring, and considerably less airplanes soaring. I look up at the stars and wonder if there will be a day when the robots take over. I have been meaning to get this book called ‘Novocene’ by James Lovelock. Lovelock introduced the hypothesis known as Gaia Theory, co-developed with Lynn Margulis. His new book goes into length about AI and the future of our planet.  As the virus has spread across nearly all places on Earth we are in what can perhaps be described as a holding pattern. It is a time to be present, and given the new protocol, or optimisation, we now live in a new paradigm, even if unwilling. I am slowly letting go of the negative thoughts, and yes I have experienced periodic dark clouds roll through my head. Moments of doubt and frustration, and even anger. I try to be silent, let them pass. I think about my elders, and pray for them. I appreciate the lessons they have passed on to me. I am learning that I am adaptable, and the includes living in quarantine. I am independent while also dependant. I receive many things from life, and also give back in return.  I am a free spirit, boundless. I have no problems with solitude, it is essential to my existence and growth. My thoughts and my prayers are with you, all my fellow beings, friend or not, no matter, we are one and we will always be one.

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detail from a 2007 hälts original painting 

 

All Life matters.

Art WIPs

mas Art! Includes present and past artworks, all copyright protected by hälts, some political, some cosmic, some spiritual, some imaginative, and I wouldn’t want to rule out magic, if not little miracles, because isn’t that what life is, a miracle?

 


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while in solitude

deathlife

life death

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here and there

protection

protection

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shelter. (hälts painting) 

sun

grave with shining light

rainbow

the source of the light

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crystal bokeh

turkeybutt copy

turkey

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turkey on the move

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life and death

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art teacher

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parking cancelled

the painter man….. hälts minimotion featuring a painting made in the pandemic era.

 

 

In the back of my mind, something does not seem right.

 


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BC and Art…

I don’t have a whole lot of words to express. I could on about how I am feeling, or talk about the weather. Or, I might say that winter has been a chore, and most certainly not a bore. I embraced the winter this year, I let old things die, and revived a passion for my painting. I spent time with the elders, made them meals, spent time listening to their stories. It is strange that we write off the elders, and treat them with such little respect. Instead we blame them for this and that, the climate, the state of the environment, and so on. They did the best the could do. There is no reconciliation without first respecting the fact that the new generations will also make mistakes, and that in the future, they will be the ones who bare the weight. I myself, my little self, think as long as the children are laughing and playing, and that the earth provides us with life, that we ought to celebrate this life, and consider how lucky we are to be here. I know I am.

 

If you so happen to love the art you see here I invite you to please visit my new a revived website halts art online store, click here!

 


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when unkind, unwind

I spent my days with a woman unkind, it left me gutted and with a heart unkind. I am going to go to Mexico to start again, going to ride them green waves, drink coconut water and take my chances on the big wet plane. -an anonymous surfer/traveller/artist/maybe writer left written on a roll of toilet paper in a baño in Mexico, 2016

 

Life shows up when it wants, and how it wants. The chaos gets intense, hold on. If you can ride it out and stay calm in thee fury, you will make it. Be prepared for anything. The mind being a powerful tool, can also fool, and easily throw you onto another path. That’s ok, it happens to everyone, we all have stories to tell. These events shape our lives, however is it not so that shapes are just an illusion. Peel away the layers of perceived self, and there is a fragile thing called life, here one moment gone the next without your knowing, or controlling. To ridicule another by projecting past mistakes onto them is the antithesis to kindness. The only way to forgive is to let those wounds heal in their own time. The path to kindness is right under your feet, but do be aware of smoke and mirrors. For in the shadows are obstacles that have defeated even the best of human.

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Old stuff….

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a magic bus I painted, here in the halfway mark

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cosmic buddha

Mexico

Mexican Reverie c.2009  In the early days I was drawn to the abstract expressive, it really depends on the environment and is definitely a painting style that requires a proper studio, I left as much paint on the house I rented as I did on canvases

 

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paintings come, paintings go

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wearable art I made from back in the day c.2006, it made it as far as New York City where a few lucky souls own a hälts original. 

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a commercial spray job I did in Mexico c.2017…overdue for a new face

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back when, live art, no sleep, grizzly bear, tutus, and unwavering commitment

Presently…

I have been working on new paintings, experiencing personal transformations, while also take care of my elders.

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then and now, weird

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spiders love the art

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emptiness

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vastness

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the eagle soars

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ice lake mountain

 

No matter what I write here, it will be the truth of that moment, even if I want to hide the things that don’t appear so Mahaloness… everything has its beauty, the good, the bad, the ugly, there is nothing to hide, nothing to feel ashamed of, because at the end of the day I am just like you, human, here to make mistakes, and occasionally  miracles. There is an old saying, countless mistakes makes something beautiful.

 

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BC East Koots winter life, I enjoy being present with Nature as much as possible.

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Current Art including painting WIP’s and also revamping my website…. relaunch in Spring 2020 ❤️💚💛

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2019 paintings

The past year has come and gone, here are some remnants in the form of paintings made in the intensity. Perhaps life comes in sets of waves, with small runners, smooth and clean, and fluctuating outside monsters that seemingly come out of no where. Stress was a factor for me, with many life events leaving their mark, still I am here, and can say I overcame much of it, with lingering nuggets that like everything else will eventually return to the sea. I do plan on working on continuing to write as things come to me. For now this post is a visual time capsule, things that inspired me, commissions, and turning life’s lemons into lemonade. For those of you interested, I do have a website online shop that you can check out via the link. haltsart.com (click here)

Also if there is any questions, comments or interest in any of these works, please do leave a message, I am more than happy to be of service.


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basement blogger…

Art Announcement…. Solstice Live Art Show! Dec. 21st 🧜‍♂️

Hälts will be doing a live event in Cranbrook BC at Soulfood on Baker St. The live art performance will include painting, video art, soundscapes and a little Q and A for those interested. It is a free event, however I will be selling merchandise, art prints, and originals will be up for purchase. These are rare gems so you perhaps will not want to miss it. check out Soulfood on Insta @kootenaysoulfood and kootenaysoulfood.com and also you can find me at @mahaloness and haltsart.com

Now back to noir regular broadcast….

I bet you thought I vanished. Well I guess the rabbit is out of the hat. Truth is I have been watching what were once mountains return to Earth. In other words, taking care of my elders. I have chosen this path, or perhaps fate and destiny have their hands in it, it’s hard to say. I am here. I am doing this. Meanwhile around me I am witnessing a a terribly beautiful world spinning its wheels, the old cat chasing its tale. I see world events unfolding, political turmoil, media spun anxiety, sports replays and weather forecasters. I watch out the window as ravens glide effortlessly through the air, a sign that the winds be blowing, Nature’s motion. I recollect life events that led me to this very seat, some with heavy heart. This too shall pass, for a cloud never stays in one spot. I look across the room, to the people whom, brought me into this life. I made them parents, they made me their child, together we circumnavigated the ever changing moods. They watched me grow up, and now I watch them grow old. I get up make coffees, empty the dishwasher, pour my dad a glass of water, give him a banana, and make my mom toast. I swoon over the dreams that have not come true, and stare at a spider wondering silently on the wall. I sit with them in a sunlit room, a squirrel runs the railing outside the window, diligently collecting peanuts left as offerings for his amusement. I watch my dad struggle with eating, hands shaking and yet no complaining. He enjoys his meal, this is what’s real, his spirit unwilling to cooperate with his failing body. I remember times we laughed, and I remember the times he made me so mad, or even sad. He had a vision for me, that never quite formed the way he saw fit. Years of battles and clashes, conditions, and prohibitions that led to no where, and yet who I let rule my existence. Broken dreams, failed romance, and a wavering attitude towards fellow humans led me down a dark path. I am human. So my time here has been a blessing and a lesson in compassion. I never knew what my grandparents thought about their lives in their later stages of life. I Wass too young. Now I experience for the first time what that is and although it does sadden me and also has strengthened my empathic muscle, long overdue.

Isn’t it funny how life will show you exactly what you need to see. lake_3crowacrosslake_2eagle_9eagleisland_2gnomelake_freezinglake_patternspeakysunpileatedpecker_flight_3piletaedpecker_1sunsetangel_montane

a little sneak peak of a viking mural project I worked one this past month, I have some catching up, pitter patter lets get atter, no matter.

 

IMG_9058We all have our stories, contorted as they may be, the beauty is the resilience, the inner spirit reveals. So I am here, amongst a world in and out of chaos, everything as it is supposed to be. I sense the mind echo questions and dialogue, I don’t give it my full attention. Instead I sit quietly in the terrible beauty of it all. Their’s climate deniers, clinging to old beliefs, while young people scream protest about Climate Crisis, without agreement to solutions. Complex is the modern world, has it ever been any different? Modern egomaniacs perhaps no different from those in the past, the story spins more stories, the mice with crowns run but do not move forward. Past rejections, life lessons, an uncertain future, yet Love remains. Where is all this coming from, perhaps at the depth of this human there is a heart that wants out the shell formed over time in order to survive. I used to wonder what Dali’s fascination was with shells until just recently did it make sense while cooking in a geothermal hot pool. I look at my mom, a care giver all her life, came from poverty, a very hard life, to living in her dream home. She truly cares for my dad, sharing her insights into what it’s like to see her lifelong partner not be able to take care of himself. All the while working painstakingly on her mountain scene petit point (if you don’t know what that is, its art, math, stitching. and well it’s complex). It’s pixelating with thread material before pixels were a thing. She works day and night, needle point in hand, colourful string, mapped and coded. She says she is going to give up every ten minutes, yet continues to weave her thread through the fabric. I never thought I would be here, watching over my raging parents, seeing their fragility in the last stages of their lifetime span. It has been difficult, yet again the inner spirit sees me through, and art my faithful companion, this I share with you. Be well

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the squirrel

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new project

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late night owl painting

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a terribly beautiful world (hälts hybrid art)

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witness to the unfolding (hälts hybridact)

 


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minimal words

Humans are struggling at the moment, it will be interesting to see how things play out in this game of life.

fotoMahaloness

Minimal words today, so much to say however there is other work to be done….future blogs coming, thank you for your patience. For now here is a story in pictures.

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golden eagle

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chasing eagles is my other passion

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silly human…

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perhaps this eagle was someone I once knew… maybe deep down I want to be an eagle in my next lifetime. 

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…and soar wherever my wings will take me

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mystery scat, possibly mountain lion, could be bear…

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classic bear scat… likely a black bear

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autumn flora

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night flora

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painting with light

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night flag

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late late summer dance

Life’s a funny the thing. The things I said back then, that mostly fell on deaf ears, or were difficult to hear, or read, or understand… that not only did they come into some form of fruition, they became part of the vernacular.

A road less travelled, however travelled.

 

 


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not dead 

I don’t know a lot, the mind wants to know everything, pressuring self to make changes, to fix, to doubt, to play tricks on the truth. I have been quiet lately, learning to listen, to witness, to see. Consciousness is a gift. Life is a gift. Look after your elders. Love them. No matter what. I forgive you. You know who you are. I don’t have a lot to say at the moment, someone will say it for me. I hope you are ok. I hope you have not given up on your dream. I wish you were here. I wish I was there. Wishful thinking. Love is not enough in this world any more. Love more. We created a hell of a mess. The youth will save this planet. It is not a matter of time. It’s a matter of life. If this makes no sense, well I am an artist, and really many things in life make no sense. Onwards.

fotoMahaloness

I have been disconnected from writing blogs, instead I have been taking time to rekindle a spirit, helping out the elders, chasing eagles, breathing, for life is a precious thing.

BC Moments

Just a reminder that I have new online art shop website haltsart.com click here and Mahalo!

and now…. late Summer BC style….


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random thoughts

I often think of myself as strange. I observe the people coming into my life, and the people going. I practice being in the moment because the past is done, and the future is zombies, neither one defining me, nor who I am. I have been practicing the art of presence, Being present, opening up, not so much an open book, more open to the little things that remind me that I am here, loved, and loving. For instance my little rabbit friend, Hectar, who does not judge me, nor shoot projections my way, he is just Hectar, he feels safe and trusts me, day in, day out, a constant reminder that love has no bounds, it does not change, even if everything else does when time has it’s way.

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My freedom is my art, my art is my heart and soul.

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Art stops me dead in my tracks. (painting: the radiant dali on cardboard from art deliveries, full circle. 

Now a hält minimotion featuring BC and stages of some watercolours I have been working on last couple weeks.

‘​Bee to a Flower’

​Painting is….my life, my heart, my spirit.

Life colours our hearts. I do what I can, sometimes it doesn’t seem like enough. Sometimes I take a walk to ease the anxiety that chases me down, looking up top the sky, it’s soft colour palette gentles the mind. I do what I can to make the memories fade, the ones that broke my spirit, hurt my heart and left me in shame. Slowly it fades, the river flows by, a bird effortlessly glides and a friend chases a friend on a Lime down the lane.

my new website for the curious haltsart.com