On the Wings of a Duck

My art practice is creative, as well as alchemical — a process of transformation that unfolds through layered textures, pigments, and the unpredictable revelations of the monotype technique. These prints aren’t concept-driven in the conventional sense. They emerge after the workday ends, pulled from the residue on my painting palette—what’s left when the session is over, or the paint runs dry. As I engage with them, the figures emerge from the in-between: dreams, active imagination, and spontaneous symbolic material drawn from the unconscious.

This print is titled 'On the Wings of a Duck,' it evokes a state of passage: between clarity and instinct, sky and pond, stillness and subtle longing. The duck ferries a small blue winged creature towards the Red,  the final stage of the alchemical opus - the rubedo, the arrival, the embodiment, the passion restored. And the duck, a creature of three elements—air, earth, water—shows us that movement doesn’t have to mean effort. That the wings we move with may already be enough.

A quiet homage to soft resilience, floating presence, and the quiet, sometimes absurd elegance of continuing on.

This work was part of a submission that was rejected for a show in my home town. The selection committee offered as 'feedback' that they decided to go for installation art and video work exclusively - it's a trend isn't it? - and so none of the 'static' works were included.  That made me smile a tad wryly, so I asked Chat GPT to write a reply message from the duck's standpoint. This is what we came up with:

Dear Selection Committee,
Thank you kindly for your note.
As a duck — a paper one, no less — I must admit I waddled into your call with some naïve expectations. I thought perhaps the show's theme ecstacy might include quiet revelations. The kind that arrive not through surround sound but through feathers and ink.
Alas, I see now that ecstasy these days prefers wires to wings. Projection to presence.
It’s a peculiar thing, isn’t it? To request offerings from across the spectrum, only to curate within the confines of trend. You must understand: I am not bitter. Ducks are used to rejection. We’re rarely invited to raves.
But I do hope your exhibition flies — truly, I do. I’ll be here, on the page—where ecstasy still, occasionally, seeps in through the unscored silence.
With warmest paper regards,
The Duck
(on behalf of Ria)

​Adding the rejection letter with a belly laughter to my pile, which is getting pretty high by now. And Onwards~