His interest in landscape painting has its roots in the rocky, forested, and mountainous terrain of the Northeastern United States in which, as a child, he first became aware of his surroundings through exploration on long walks and hikes. Yeats wrote about the stories of Irish mythology “they are set in a world so fluctuating and dream-like, that nothing can hold them from being all that the heart desires.” I suppose, if I had to explain why I make pictures, my desire to follow my imagination down a path as it curves and disappears behind the last tree would be the best explanation that comes to mind.ĭaniel Faiella was born and raised in New Hampshire. For me, painting and music are both a way of describing this otherworld that lies outside the boundaries of my conscious thought and the limits of my own personal experience of the world. And to this day I still have dreams in which I walk past those edges of my little childhood world, and find myself in a strange kind of otherworld, which is impossible to describe with my waking mind. We didn’t visit our neighbors much on either side, and I only ever had a vague idea of what was behind those lines of trees.
On the western side was a line of tall, graceful poplar trees that made a whooshing sound like a rainstick in the evening when there was a breeze and lit up with the sun falling behind them. On the eastern edge were towering pines, which seemed huge and foreboding to me when I was very small, and at their feet, a tumbling rock wall marking the edge of our property. I used to sit on a rock in the field behind my parents’ house when I was growing up, and look around at the margins of our property.
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