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Showing posts from April, 2013

Road to Barrachois Wharf

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Road to Barrachois Wharf, o/p, 20"x 24", Steven Rhude "This is enjoyment. It's sort of hard to explain," he said, as he finished tagging his traps. "It's just one of those things, there's no extra pressure. It's just one of those things you feel natural doing. So you just go out and it falls together for me. As the old saying goes, it's what you make of it."   Dwayne Joudrie, Fisherman From the Truro Daily News, April, 24th, 2013

Memorial - Road to Wedgeport

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Road to Wedgeport, o/p, 20"x24", Steven Rhude They know when the wrong wave hits them Perdu, They're gone They played their share of poker they know the odds are long La mer ne pardonne pas James Keelaghan - Captain Torres  perdu n. - obsolete, A soldier sent on an especially dangerous mission. Missing 20 year old fisherman presumed drowned off the coast of Nova Scotia After a 15 - hour exhaustive search officials say a 20 year old lobster fisherman who fell overboard off the coast of Nova Scotia is "missing and presumed drowned." Lt. Cmdr. - Bruno Tremblay, a spokesperson for the Joint Rescue Co - ordination Centre said both a Cormorant Helicopter and a Hercules aircraft were sent to the scene along with two coast guard ships. "The Hercules used more than 100 flares to make sure the searching area was illuminated at all times," he said. Police said another 20 - 30 fishing boats joined the search overnight. "Unfo

Road to Blockhouse

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Road to Blockhouse, 12" x 24", o/p, Steven Rhude Blockhouse - The residents advisory committee voted unanimously Monday evening against a construction and demolition processing facility for Blockhouse. The vote came after a two - hour meeting in which not one of the roughly 250 residents packed into the firehall for a public meeting spoke in favour of Halifax C&D Recycling Ltd's proposal. Protesters gathered outside the firehall an hour before the meeting began, waving signs saying Dump the Dump as they were cheered on by honks from passing cars. From the Chronicle Herald, Tuesday, April 23rd, 2013 Steven Rhude, Wolfville, NS.

Boy on a Winter Road

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Boy on a Winter Road (near Wolfville), o/p, 24" x 30", Steven Rhude There is reason and purpose to always seeking something more about a place. Not just the factual qualities that come with a region and its history - although they're important too. But place through our friends and family, and how they can express something equally as deep through their moods and beliefs - their habits, experiences and superstitions. This is the second portrait of a boy with a growing emphasis on his qualities of introspection that comes with being eleven years old, and living in rural Nova Scotia. Two more paintings of him with a pretext to the four seasons will complete the suite. Steven Rhude, Wolfville

End of Black Drung

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End of Black Drung, o/p, 24" x 30", Steven Rhude "How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use! As though to breath were life! Life piled on life." Alfred Lord Tennyson - Ulysses[1] Last summer I followed a narrow lane (Newfoundland - drung) in Petty Harbour, and upon reaching the very end of it, felt it scroll open to the sea. There I encountered two houses and a fish box; three boxes really. The rurality of the place conveyed a sense of restlessness to me; the fishermen like Ulysses, feeling uncomfortable with their circumstances.  [1,] According to Dante, after Ulysses had returned home to Ithaca and had settled down to rule his island kingdom, he became restless and desired to set out on another voyage of exploration to the west. In old age he persuaded a band of his followers to accompany him on such a voyage. For the Greeks, the idea of sailing beyond the sunset, was based on their understanding of cosmolog

Boxed Out

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Lobster Boxes, oil on canvas, 24" x 30", Steven Rhude Walls of wood by the coast, really walls of community really walls of a ghost. Slivered panels coloured three, tourist colours tuition free. Look inside? Don't you dare, tread on my jokes tread on my fare. Tales of heroes and tales of lore, every body's box contains so much more. Down the shore, been boxed about, up the shore they're boxed out. Things are changing times are grim, can't be content to remain boxed in. Steven Rhude, Wolfville, NS