Keith English Blog

Shambala A study in Compassion would put me in your place; Would have me walk a stranger's strides and wear a foreign face. Being in your footsteps; wearing your sized shoes; Holding back my judgements and suppressing Ego's views... As your pathway opens up,  making your choices seem so real Compassion blossoms into Love and both of us can heal.                                                                      - poem by Jodieanne Keith has the most remarkable ability to somehow inject feelings of peace into his paintings.  This was demonstrated to me in our home. For many years we had no paintings on our own walls. (The shoemakers children go unshod!) But finally we brought them in, gifting our home with their lovely light. Our son was a teenager and a remarkable thing happened the v...

Vision Trail  As I have mentioned to you before, Keith often had visions during his dreams and meditations. He had one waking vision while visiting the desert in Sedona, Arizona, USA. As he walked through the desert of red clay he stooped to pick up a stone, thinking to take home a souvenir of his time there. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash and in astonishment he stood up. In front of him stood a Native American Indian high upon a horse. The man and horse were transparent and completely bathed in the colour red. Keith blinked but the vision did not go away. He backed away from the vision, leaving the stone, now forgotten, on the ground and the man and horse before him faded away. He had a friend with him who was walking several paces behind when this occurred. As they met up he explained what happened and they took a photo of this spot. Years later in the late 1990's he was in between paintings and asked me if I had any ideas for the next one. I reminded him...

Spirit of the Royal Oak Ageless and ancient the Spirit watches as the tiny acorn dreams beneath the mouldy forest floor. She nurtures the potential of its form and keeps the sleeping seedling safe from harm. She sees a straight trunk and leafy boughs and far off cycles of sun and storm and snow; holding the future of its heart until the time that it should grow...                                                                                           (poem by Jodieanne) Keith loved trees. When he was a boy he planted two sycamore leaves in his garden. Both grew into beautiful trees. At Christmas he refused to kill a live tree for us to decorate. No amount of pleading would change his mind. Even the very sensible argument that Christmas trees would not have b...