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Storied

September 1, 2009 to September 26, 2009
Nell Warren:

Cloud Play

2009 acrylic on canvas 18" x 24" Available
Nell Warren:

Domain

2009 acrylic on canvas 20" x 20" Available
Nell Warren:

Kaskela

2009 acrylic on canvas 18" x 24" Sold
Nell Warren:

Marstrand

2009 acrylic on canvas 32" x 80 1/2" Sold
Nell Warren:

Miller

2009 acrylic on canvas 18" x 24" Sold
Nell Warren:

Mountain Maquette 1

2009 acrylic and mixed media on paper 9" x 7" Sold
Nell Warren:

Mountain Maquette 2

2009 acrylic and mixed media on paper 6 5/8" x 8 3/4" Sold
Nell Warren:

Mountain Maquette 3

2009 acrylic and mixed media on paper 2 3/8" x 3" Sold
Nell Warren:

Ode

2009 acrylic on canvas 30" x 48" Sold
Nell Warren:

Pageant

2009 mixed media 7 3/4" x 5 3/8" x 2 1/2" Sold
Nell Warren:

Path Sign 1

2009 acrylic and mixed media on paper 12 1/2" x 9 1/2" Sold
Nell Warren:

Path Sign 2

2009 acrylic and mixed media on paper 14" x 8 1/8" Available
Nell Warren:

Standout

2009 acrylic and mixed media on paper 5 1/2" x 7 3/4" Sold
Nell Warren:

Topiary

2009 acrylic media on paper 13 3/4" x 11 3/4" Available
Nell Warren:

Untitled

2009 acrylic on canvas 36" x 36" Sold
Nell Warren:

Whale Song

2009 acrylic on canvas 30" x 40" Sold
Nell Warren:

Whorl

2009 acrylic on canvas 12" x 48" Available
Nell Warren:

Horn

2009 acrylic on canvas 9" x 12" Sold
Nell Warren:

Hover

2009 acrylic on canvas 12" x 12" Sold

Artists

Statement

I love how the shape of events becomes clear in flashes of fleeting wonder and indelibly fade to be remembered again at some new intersection of experience and realization. How these moments of truth, great and small, work on us and in turn shape how we move through the world. My world is populated with magical places. Singular in their aspects, romantically beautiful, sublimely vast and moving, all ruled by their relationship with the flow of water around them. Growing up in these haunts we swam like fish, climbed like squirrels, built forts like beavers and explored the islands of my life as pirates, castaways, and explorers. The creatures that inhabit them possess totemic majesty and impressed on me a great love of animals as well as a curiosity for the mysteries of the world. It is no great wonder then that I am a hopeless romantic, an idealist and a storyphile, believing and breathing fantasy in every waking moment. Every stone and outcrop is the remnant of vast and awesome time so far beyond comprehension that it defies the parameters of logic and can only be grasped through the spelling of tales and the painting of pictures. My red may never be yours, but we can dance around it with words and images, brushing at its truth and hidden meanings. The world is a story to be interpreted.