Andrea Youngman

 
 
 

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Andrea Youngman

Andrea Youngman

Columbia, MO

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Andrea Youngman

Revealing the Sacred Magic in Nature

I had a magical childhood... I spent my days playing in Michigan woods, climbing old grape vines and crawling through dry swamps. Sometimes I stopped and hid very still inside the hollow trunk of an ancient tree. Other times I wandered, following the bees and sweet smells as I learned to recognize the gnarl of an old apple tree and , if I was lucky, one live branch that managed to grow one bumpy little apple for me to eat.

I collected walnuts and loved the tall grasses and the huge vines that I climbed on. I loved lying in the deep grass, arms and leg spread, staring up at the stars as I wondered how it would be to stay awake and watch myself be grown back under, part of the roots and grass and earth.

As each winter approached the spider webs that hung across the chicory become covered in frost, like snowflakes that bloomed. Dad sharpened the snow shovel, put on skates and swoosh! He sliced down cattails all around him then swept them aside and waited for the next freeze to cover their stems. We ice skated for acres, through swamps draped with grapevines and haunted trees, bent and gnarling. We skated around islands, under vines, leaping frozen floated logs. Later we had bonfires in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night when the snow glowed.

I painted rocks and wood, made jewelry, and collected feather and bones and leaves and helped Mom create a large tree as she presented a play of Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree. Together we watched The Lorax and I knew I would someday speak for the trees.

This is where my paintings come from. The magic of my childhood, and my desire to capture the mystical and spiritual beauty that nature offers. I speak for the trees. The grass. The stars. The earth. I paint to reveal the sacred magic of nature.

 

 

Electric Moonlight by Andrea Youngman

 

She sucked out the color and saw that the world still contained magic. by Andrea Youngman

 

Please Don't Lick the Sherbet Trees by Andrea Youngman

 

Let's Go Slipping through the Forest by Andrea Youngman

 

Ruth Youngman's National Forest by Andrea Youngman

 

Winters Stark Beauty by Andrea Youngman

 

It was the breeze that mussed their hair but the girls didn't mind. by Andrea Youngman

 

This Aint Church by Andrea Youngman

 

I've Touched the Moon by Andrea Youngman

 

These weren't the long necks of his college years. by Andrea Youngman

 

They danced as though her life depended on it. by Andrea Youngman

 

This is Your Brain on Trees by Andrea Youngman

 

Waiting on the Moon with Love by Andrea Youngman

 

A Still Day on the Outskirts of Hades by Andrea Youngman

 

Ghosts Whispering in the Field by Andrea Youngman

 

Climbing Trees by Andrea Youngman

 

Peyote Dreams by Andrea Youngman

 

Come Climb my Branches by Andrea Youngman

 

Ice Ice Baby by Andrea Youngman

 

Winter Blues by Andrea Youngman

 

Starry Night in the Zebra Forrest by Andrea Youngman

 

Offering Golden Gifts by Andrea Youngman