Tell me, do you adore owls?
Have you ever really thought about them?
If you are a fan of owls, do you have a favourite?
I am a little obsessed, and I am not entirely sure why (other than that they are clearly magical beings, of course).
It wasn’t always this way - in fact one of my younger brothers was the one in our family that liked all things owl (I was, and am still, the kitty obsessed one). But I almost feel like my life’s-work is to honour our winged kin, and owls in particular.
Just a few of the owls I have honoured the last couple of years. Many of these are available as limited edition prints here, printed, numbered and signed by ME!
I fell in love with The Labyrinth (and David Bowie) when I was 13, perhaps my adoration stems from that. I do know that owls have played a huge role in my art making pretty much right from when I picked up a pencil again at the end of 2016, after a 20-odd year break from this sort of creativity. Some of the first scribbles I did were of barn owl faces, wise and weathered and wonderful. The first class I created in 2019 had two owl projects in it. The first really detailed coloured pencil piece I did was of a barn owl. And the first collection I created at the end of 2021 ~ Silent Flight ~ were all owls in coloured pencil and graphite. There is something so otherworldly about them - along with ravens, they are a huge part of where my wonder at this wild world lives.
I often say that were I to grow wings, one would be an owl’s, the other a raven’s. There are few birds, particularly nocturnal birds, who capture the imagination of humans so well as to be immortalised in an untold number of folk tales, of verses, of poetry, and of prose, as the owl. Yet there are so many species of these creatures, that what each individual’s imagination conjures up when hearing the term ‘owl’ is as unique as their experience of them, and indeed of the owls native to where they reside. What do you think of when you hear or read the word ‘owl’? Is it the classic moon faced barn owl? The fierce and frowning face of eagle owls and horned owls? The story of trees that is the Great Grey owl? The Tudor-ruff ensconced face of a short eared owl? The wide eyed surprise of the boobook owl? The intensity of expression and incredible talons of the powerful owl?
(Yep, that is all coloured pencil - many, many (many) tiny strokes and layers on layers on layers).
Perhaps it is the intricacy of detail in their feathers. They are not flashy or garish like birds of paradise. They are made for stealth, for blending in with an environment, to be completely at one with the wild in where they live. How many colours do you think you can count in this section of barn owl wing? I can't tell you for sure, but it would be over two dozen. I don't see brown or orange anymore. I see sepia and walnut, burnt umber and van dyke, bistre and nougat and more. I see terracotta, orange yellow, burnt ochre, brown ochre, cinnamon and russet and so much more, to say nothing of the blues and purples and palest pink. This is one of the gifts of this work, spending time contemplating colour and being humbled to learn that no matter how hard I look, how hard I try to honour that colour complexity, I will never come close to the real thing. Isn't that wonderful? Magical indeed.
Labyrinthine dreams, all magic and moon, pearlescent feathers ghost-lit and dreamy.
The substance of myth and legend, my heart skips at the swift-secret-sight.
A silent mystery gliding through the firmament.
And so, it is official, I have changed this month’s name to Owlgust. I think that sounds rather delightful, don’t you? Put the word around. I have crossed out August on my calendar and scribbled in Owlgust. Maybe we should rename each month for one of our more-than-human family. Send me your suggestions for September!
I will be writing a lot more about owls, and the role they play in cultures and folk stories throughout the world - I tell you, I am endlessly fascinated. But for now, I am working on a small series of barn owl and flowers, part of the larger {Fleur + Fauna} collection (this could well be a life's work collection). You were introduced to this piece last week - she is close to completion now, another four or so hours I think. I have always loved the delicacy (and scent) of roses, and wanted to include them here as a way to point out how we commonly call flowers, roses, exquisite, beautiful, worthy of great admiration, adorn our houses with them and images of them. Our winged family deserves that admiration, reverence, and more.
The Wild Forgotten book will be full of owls, ravens, birds of prey…birds in general, among other wild creatures, of course. Fox and wolf and deer are also close to my heart, as well as very Australian animals like quolls and Tassie devils, fruit bats and wombats. But lots of owls. Including some sweet (mischievous) little characters I have started working on that will weave a thread throughout the book. A green thread.
Will you follow the green thread with me?
Natalie, your work is truly exquisite. The detail, and how you perfectly capture the magical essence of these exceptional beings. I had the honour of hanging out with some tawny owls, yesterday, one of whom is called Pigeon. She was raised by humans since before she opened her eyes, so only met other owls for the first time last week, and was initially terrified. Happily, she has since come to terms with the fact that she is, indeed, an owl. And an exceptionally beautiful one at that.
I am delighted that August is now Owlgust, this makes much more sense. I remember being so confused that September and November were called that when Sept means seven & Novem means nine (as you may well know, turns out that July & August were months added to the calendar by Julius Caesar and Augustus Caesar, who modestly named them after themselves). So reclaiming them feels right! I would love to submit that September be Swiftember, as it’s the month when the very last of the Swifts start their journey to Subsaharan Africa…🪶
We currently have a family of tawny owls living close by, and at 10 each night one of them sits in the cherry tree outside our living room and calls to the others. There really is nothing quite so magical on a warm, dark evening.
Your work is exquisite, Natalie. Every time you post I can’t look fast enough!