Another Coyote Print

Coyote, hand coloured dry point.

Lethbridge

A poem I wrote about Lethbridge based on the opening soliloquy from Richard III. It won an honourable mention at the 2014 Dr. William Henry Drummond Poetry Contest.

Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious spring by the flattened, sodden grass;

And all stiff grit lour’d upon our house

In the deep bosom of the Old Man buried.

Now are our brows bound by snapback John Deere caps;

Our itchy, irritated skin lotioned with Vaseline Intensive Care;

Our walkways shoveled bare,

Our dreadful spinning tires altered to traction on asphalt.

Absurdly beaming missionaries hath smooth’d his wrinkled front;

And now, instead of mounting snow blower

To fright the souls of neighborhood cats,

He capers nimbly in Tim Hortons

To the delectable scent of almost burnt coffee.

But I, that am not shaped for sportive trucks,

Nor made to castrate amorous cattle;

I, that am rude and stamp my ‪chukka boots upon the floor

And strut before independent coffeehouse;

I, that am curtail’d of broad feedlot cowboy shoulders,

Cheated of muscled ass that properly fits Wranglers,

Delicate, finish’d, dainty and sent

Into this honky-tonk world, properly made up,

And so perfectly fashionable

That coyotes yip at me as I halt by them;

Why, I, in this manly city of truck nuts,

Have no delight to pass away the time,

Unless to spy my shadow in the glazed coffee shop window

And descant on my own trimmed-bread-hipster handsomeness:

And therefore, since I cannot prove a calloused worker,

To entertain these Conservatives,

I am determined to prove a villain

And hate the lack of idle pleasures to be found these days.

Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,

By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams,

To set the Evangelical and the Mormons

In deadly hate one against the other:

And if manly-men be as coarse and lumbering

As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,

This day should the righteous be exposed,

And their sheepish self-serving piousness revealed.

Dive, thoughts: here come the missionaries.

© 2014, Leila Armstrong

Hand Coloured Coyote Prints

Coyote, drypoint using a spray painted cardboard plate, 2014

Coyote, w/c pencil on etching, 2013/14

Coyote, w/c pencil on etching, 2013/14

Coyote, w/c pencil on etching, 2013/14

Coyote, w/c pencil on etching, 2013/14

Coyote, w/c pencil on etching, 2013/14

Coyote, w/c pencil on etching, 2013/14

Pheasant Hunt

In 2011, I received a Canada Council ACDI grant to pursue independent production.  This project involved creating a pack of 5 taxidermied coyotes with accompanying miniature natural history-esque dioramas of humans embedded on their bodies and bases.  These works address the intersection of wild animals with populated urban, suburban, and rural settings.  Coyotes are considered to be the most effective non-domesticated mid-to-large sized animals in terms of expanding their range and population in response to human encroachment.  Thus, they are perfect for addressing that moment when animals transform from being awe inspiring and grand to being seen as pests and even threats.  This body of work will be show in an exhibition titled Coyote at Casa in Lethbridge from November 8 through December 24, 2014.

The Cougar

I could hear this barking commotion in the back yard so I went to the door. There was Tippy, a cream coloured bulldog, and what looked like another skinny tan dog. Tippy and the bulldog were barking at the tan dog and I realized it was small juvenile cougar attacking a large black dog prostrate on the ground. 
I rushed from the house, grabbed a tomato cage -- pointy bits facing outwards -- and attacked the cougar with it. Tippy and the bulldog got behind me and I managed to drive the cougar off the wounded black dog. The cougar attempted to pass me several times and return to the dog’s throat, but I beat it back with the tomato cage until it eventually hopped the fence and disappeared into the alley.
“You wouldn’t actually attack a cougar with a tomato cage to save a strange black dog, would you?” asks Josie.
“Well, I did in my dream,” I reply.