SASQUATCH CROSSING
Every so often a painting finds me. It just magically “comes into focus” and demands my artist’s attention. That’s what this image did. It found me.
I’ve paddled the azure waters of the Harrison River at least 20 times since 1997, and as beautiful as it is, I’d never found an image to paint in the upper reaches of the river. I’d pretty much given up on it in fact. In the summer of 2019, I had the opportunity to guide a group of people down the Harrison on a gorgeous sunny and clear August day. We stopped at the turn in the river, a traditional landing area for the Chehalis people, where we were met by an elder of the Sts’ales nation. We know it as Chehalis, but the proper and culturally historic name for the territory and the community is Sts’ales. We gathered in a circle there on the bank of the river to hear wondrous tales of the history of the people of this area, a history that can be traced back to over 14,000 years. We learned of ancient pit houses that are virtually all around us as we talked in our circle. At such times, I can feel the ancestors in their very real presence as they endorse the words of the elder.
At one point the elder told us of the significance of this part of the river. He pointed downstream and we all turned our attention to the river. “Right here” he said, “is where the Sasquatch cross the river”. The Sts’ales people have known for generations that this particular area belongs to Sasquatch. It was then that it happened. As I looked downstream, to a river I’d seen so many times before, it came to me carried on the words of the elder. I had to paint this special place.
When the circle was broken, I asked one of our party to take a photograph. I took that photograph and painted the image I call “Sasquatch Crossing”. I was touched that day by the words of a wise elder, the powerful beauty of the area, the diamond sparkle of the river, and the very presence of the ancestors of this territory. The painting just “came into focus.” You can’t see the Sasquatch in my painting, but I know he’s there. Just as in real life, he’s there watching us, hidden in the trees at “Sasquatch Crossing”.
