Paintings, drawings, photography, sculptures and woodworking by artist Paul Woggy
They’ve never met, yet these industrious adventurers recognize each other immediately. The reflected wanderlust uncanny—recreation bordering on compulsion. The planning: meticulous. The journey: arduous. But the experience is transcendent. Living the dream is more than plans can imagine. They exchange tales in a wave—and create a new one that will travel with them forever.
26″x20″ Acrylic on Canvas
Climbing takes Trevor closer to the stars. He knows it’s nonsense, but it’s a fun thought. The stars paint pictures in Trevor’s mind—entertained; it’s an ancient game that connects us all. Explorers, fortunetellers, scientists, storytellers. Guiding us to new possibilities. Inspiring dreamers of every kind.
9″x12″ Pastel on Paper
Long ago, the city tasked the Gargolope to defend its border. For centuries, he stared out at the dark forest—always ready to leap into action. The city has long forgotten him. The forest has not. Gently, patiently, the forest reached out to the champion with honeysuckle arms—entwining the Gargolope and pulling him to the forest’s protective darkness with a sweet embrace.
26″x20″ Acrylic on Canvas
Today the mule deer family is teaching young Henry where food comes from. Food isn’t just a meal. It’s a connection with the land. It’s a labor of love to watch something small grow and mature. It’s a connection with all living things. We all need a lot of patience and love around us so we can grow and give some of ourselves to the world.
There’s a lot to do on the farm. Our day starts before the sun comes up. The land needs tilled. The crops need care. Everything needs maintenance. We earn our time off. A game of gin and a glass of lemonade are what we look forward to after the grueling day.
The lemons are ripe and fragrant. Manny is here as he is every year when it’s time for the harvest—out in the orchard everyday. Rain or shine. One bushel at a time. Careful and efficient. Without Manny, the harvest would never be done.
Old Red and I have been bringing in the crops for 40 years. She might squeak and creak a bit—eh, we’re both getting that way. It’s hard work, but we got no complaints. Just happier being put to use, and Old Red’s that way too—load her up and she purrs like a kitten. I can always rely on Old Red—we don’t get there fast, but we get there. Old Red’s a good friend.
9″x12″ Pastel on Paper Series
Just out of the corner of your eye. A glassy shimmer in the stone. Just one shaky leaf. A single purple dot in the wavy sea of yellow green grass. Easy to miss. Easy to ignore. It could easily be nothing. For the patient and observant the magic is real. Very small, but very real.
9″x12″ Pastel on Paper
Dad strides home, dragging his prize behind—a golden chanterelle, foraged from deep in the forest. His anticipating bunnies have waited, wondered—now they watch with excitement.
Dad’s a jacked, lumberjack jackrabbit – so of course his name is Terrence.
After a day on the trail, an elk backpacker pauses on a vista. Light cascades on the mountain ahead. He lets his pack fall away—not in weariness, but to stand fully in stillness. This is what make the trek worthwhile: these ephemeral moments. No camera can capture the beauty and emotion. Some things can only be savored, not saved.
In the crackling firelight, a wolf weaves a tale into the night. His hands summon specters from the flames, twisting shadow into suspense. The children gasp—one for fear on the edge of her seat; the other for air, unable to contain his laughter. Stories shape us all—each in our own way—but it’s the ones we make together that matter most.
26″x20″ Acrylic on Canvas
Hidden in the foliage of a giant 100 year old rubber tree, this fabulous flyer zoomed around loving life—pausing only long enough for a pic before launching back into the air to investigate another part of the tree.
Location: Parque Tres de Febrero, Buenos Aires, Argentina
Three berries! He froze, blinked twice, and slowly stretched every inch of himself closer. The alluring scent, the nearly translucent blush-pink gleam—candy from the mountains! And now, with toes gripping, his chest swelling, he reached. Even after the season’s pilgrimage, stone by stone through Patagonia, there’s no need to rush. Each berry will be savored with its own individual appreciation.
Location: Laguna Esmeralda, Tierra del Fuego, Argentina