Moon Man painting is a meditation on the spirit of water. Balancing Light and Water, Becoming Both was inspired by a contemporary prayer rooted in Anishinaabe water teachings, addressing Gzhe-mnidoo (also Gitche Manitou, “Great Spirit).
The prayer that inspired the work reads: “Gzhe-mnidoo, thank you for all that you placed upon Mother Earth. We are especially appreciative of the water today, all the waters that are here—the great bodies of water, the lakes, rivers, spring, wetlands, and underground water. Guide us all to stand united, and help us to take great care of the sacred water. Kichimiigwech”
Most mornings at sunrise, and again before sunset, I walk with my goldendoodle, Fritz, along the shores of Lake Michigan. Those walks make me imagine this place before European arrival, when the Indigenous peoples of this region lived with the rhythms of these waters.
Reading the prayer on a postcard at the Crooked Tree Art Center’s “Immersed” exhibition this summer helped me rethink an earlier, unsuccessful painting based on a selfie capturing sun reflections on Lake Michigan; a scan of the postcard with the original text in Anishinaabemowin appears at the end of this post
In 2020, sun on ripples at North Bar Lake, beside Lake Michigan in Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, became a focus for my friend Cindy Timmer, who reproduced those reflections on greeting cards she titled “sending rays…”
The next summer, late one afternoon at Esch Beach, I waded into Lake Michigan. Standing still in the shallows, I moved my feet to stir the water, creating circular ripples that spread around me as my shadow stretched toward the shoreline. My first attempt to paint that moment failed. The background held together, but the figure—a shapeless body in a hat, phone raised to snap a selfie—felt lifeless. I studied tutorials on painting water, but the piece would not cohere.
After encountering the Anishinaabe prayer—and after so much time along the lakeshore—I replaced the shadow-self with a man, arms lifted toward a luminous moon. The light that once cast a western shadow became an eastern moon rising above the shore. The figure no longer recorded the sun; he participated in moonlight.
Color took over—turquoise, violet, gold. The water’s brilliance read as joy. I nearly entered the painting in the Oliver Art Center juried show, but it wasn’t ready.
A few months later I returned to Moon Man with more clarity. I let water cross the right leg, merging figure and lake. Suddenly, he belonged. The painting finally breathed.
On my walks I do a small part for this coastline—picking up plastic debris with my ever-present dog bags.
There is much to learn from the water’s rhythms here. On stormy days, the waves recall dangers once faced by ships threading the narrow passage between the Manitou Islands and the mainland. On quiet days, I study beach cusps—those rhythmic, crescent forms where waves meet shore.
So much life here to sustain a painter.
The Anishinaabe prayer’s reverence for water, addressed to Gzhe-mnidoo (also Gitche Manitou, “Great Spirit”), brought back a memory from my scientific life. My collaborator Brigitte Schmitz, inspired by the nearby Manitou Islands, once suggested naming one of my monoclonal antibodies “Mannitou.” That antibody, described in our paper Mannitou Monoclonal Antibody Uniquely Recognizes Paucimannose, a Marker for Human Cancer, Stemness, and Inflammation (Journal of Carbohydrate Chemistry, 2012), binds to a sugar called mannose on stem and cancer cells. For me, it became another way to honor the hidden patterns that shape life—in molecules, water, and in spirit.
The same curiosity that once guided my scientific work, studying the neural activity of species across phylogeny, now guides my painting. Instead of writing grant proposals and guarding against laboratory toxins, I now enjoy exploring pigments and painting in the quiet of my home.
Below is the prayer in Anishinaabemowin, as printed on the postcard designed by Sarah Schilling for the exhibition at the Crooked Tree Art Center in Petoskey.
Interesting story of how you developed this piece. Well done!
Thanks, Sherry — this one’s been unfolding slowly since 2021.
Beautiful painting!
Thanks, Fran. This figure is different—no longer a person I know or my dog, but a mythical being.
Your painting really touched me. It feels calm and full of meaning. I like how you changed the shadow into a man reaching toward the moon. It makes the scene feel alive, as if he belongs to both the lake and the sky. The colors you used, like turquoise, violet, and gold, are bright and peaceful. They remind me of Chinese art that shows the moon and water together.
In Chinese culture, the moon is very special. We follow the lunar calendar and celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival by watching the moon. It reminds us of family, love, and connection, even when people are far apart. When I saw your “Moon Man,” I thought of that same feeling of reflection and togetherness.
I also like how you included the Anishinaabe prayer. It shows respect for nature and the spirit of water. Even though our cultures are different, your work made me realize how similar we are in how we honor nature and light. Your painting feels like a quiet prayer of gratitude, both for the earth and for peace within ourselves.
I’m glad that you understood what I hoped to express—the quiet unity between sky, water, and spirit. I’m touched that you thought of the Mid-Autumn Festival in China and how the moon connects families across distance—your mother in China and me here in Michigan, across the American continent. I’m grateful that you are part of our family and that our worlds can meet in this kind of understanding.
Hi Birgit
thanks so much for sharing this- may I share it with the LTBB language department? They were responsible for sharing the recordings of the acknowledgement, and Sarah Schilling, the artist responsible for the graphic design of the vinyl and postcard. Your image, sentiment, and words are inspiring! I’m so happy that that you engaged with the work in this creative and meaningful and enduring way!
Hi Sheila, Thank you for your kind words. Yes, you’re welcome to share it with the LTBB Language Department and with Sarah Schilling. I’ve now included the postcard she designed at the end of my post. Is that appropriate to do, or might it infringe on copyright?
It means a great deal to know that the prayer, the design, and the acknowledgement reached me in this way and could flow back to the community that created them. I’m grateful for the chance to engage with the work and to let it shape my own.
this is a real master piece of capturing stillness. Every touch seems acting as an ultimate unifier. really love it!
Thank you, Jianxiong. We shared so much science together in the past, and now we are both moving on in new directions—you, writing a book on a twentieth-century Chinese scholar, and me, trying to figure out meaning through painting. I am always glad to hear from you.