On this heart given gift of paint
Such palette does create with
No crimson hue to be seen as true
Nor green can be seen
By these these eyes given gift of god
For these hands are forsaken
So quickly are shaken
Does the mind and heart surely follow.
On a completely different subject than I posted on earlier the other day I was asked about the new piece A man and his Vices and how it was different than many of my other pieces which is very true. Two of my favorite painters and great masters have done similar pieces that I’d like to share with you.
First a piece by Miro called Black Circle I believe. Then a piece from Picasso.
Corrida le Picador
Then to the piece I created A Man and his Vices
That’s about what I have for you today besides my emotional dribble this morning. Needless to say life is hard but I am harder.
I’m off to see my neurologist.
And PS no I’m not suicidal nor am I going away or stopping the paint.
The words you are going to read are not soft, they bite and have teeth that leave marks for the world to see.
It’s been said I’ve changed… So I have bing told you have an incurable progressive neurological disorder has that effect on people. Have I changed for the better or worse??? I guess that depends on whom you speak with. To those of you whom wish to reach me you should know how. Remember live you life with passion. Try hard and harder to follow your dreams and desires be true to yourself and those around you and with any luck you’ll leave this world a better place than before you were here.
A darkness has found me….
I’ve run from it for so long.
But it knows my name and there
Can be no hiding from it’s truth
The words were spoken and like many things in this life once said can not be unsaid for even should they morph and change the damage has been done.
There are two things I’ve wanted since I was a young boy coming from a broken home. One was to be a great artist in the same way I saw my father. Two was to have a stable life. A family and with that family never let them feel the pains of divorce and those feelings that come
From a broken home. Lord knows I’ve lived through to much of that in my life.
Well I have failed… I have failed myself, my son and the ideas in which I set forth so any years ago.
Now I sit with a heavier heart than I’ve ever known and ponder my next path. Life is funny the dream of becoming an artist came with a heavy price tag. Parkinson’s disease. DX at 41 living with they say since probably my early 30′s. And now it seems the universe is here to test my resolve again and it has chosen to take my family from me as well. So again I sit and I ponder what does this life mean and why am I here. Why is the cost of wanting to be happy so high?? I fear I know not where the light is any more. They have been taken from me. So like a child in the darkness of his own shadow I search the morning sky for answers. Why and what, where. Now of my dreams in this mortal life I’ve only the one left. Tears…… Fall like the spring rains washing away the pain and guilt. And I have nothing more to say…. Please remember after I’m gone. To
Be Brave, Be Bold and Thrive in the life you have. You never know when it will change.
I used to sit… Listen to Miles for hours..
Long nights of turpentine and Irish whiskey.
Two tone shoes and filter less cigarettes.
Seems like theses days…. Yeah those days
Back before we were old. Before time made
Me tired…impatient and pissed off….
Seems like those days are not so far gone.
Tonight their is no magic in the stars.
These shakes and quakes that plague
me have stolen my soul.
Like the blacken crows that pluck
Out the eyes of this heart woefully
fluttering whispers of healing praise.
No…! They not of the glassen heart that trembles in the dark
as if some godly torment crushes the boys soul!!
For what deal with devil have you made my poor son…?
Nothing….Nothing..fills the darkest night not even
the blacken ash of Hells fire can ignite the flame,
for it is green with envy for another hearts heart.
As the boy cries empty from the hallways and bed flames
of loves gone quiet in the night, so many years ago.
Will these borrowed bones not break
Not from the strain of such a heavy heart.
As the music of century’s old try to weep its way through
this heart and take away the pain through
hogs hair and that of the once living.
Silence….silence… Does cry like a mothers child lost in the rain
of the dark and fright of ones own choosing,
god grant me the strength….strength
To be who I was born to be…..
Just one more time..
This knight is done…no more hollow heart swallows of desert dry…..
Only tears, only tears have I…..
In the cold of the night your words give warmth.
A gentle glow..sparks.. Of passion and love yet
to sew seed but born from a deeper place than I’ve traveled before.
A smile so strong a bridge it has built from heart to
heart and back again. Leaving no brick un bruised in the delight of her name.
By what charge of a poets heart does man claim his place
Amongst the angels.
Given no tenor to call home or a voice to speak of,
a wondering soul rest only where angles fear to tread…….
Such darkness gives way to a tender light
Gentle….. Soft….. Lost herself in a strangers land of newness.
A bold place for such a tender heart to trend.
After such destruction has been given her chase only to fall flat
for she rises like the phoenix.
Giving passion to my life like a teenaged boy in heat.
Such passion drip from that fountain that I yearn to
drink from in this life and no other.
Waiting……… Time passes so slowly as the days wander by
looking for a place to call home.
Kisses warm and wet fall upon counters made of Alice’s looking glass
Ponderous thoughts and days are these…..
Left alone…….in a crowded room…..by a mirror facing a mirror and myself.
I wonder what painters hand have I to create these thoughts I think in
colors of green and blue, of silken satin leather, lace and you……
For are we all not the muse of someone else’s muse. Given chase by another
Lovers lover from another place in time and their heart.
Such ponderous thoughts are these….
As the stars track clockwise through the heavens I’m reminded of these new changing times.
Reflections of my past giving chase to tomorrows memories and dreams.
For whom shall I be now that I am once again free to be me, who is this knight of pure heart and black soul, Cast down from the heavens eons ago. Left to wander these time in paint and prose.
Of lovers lips and and sunken ships that have sailed so long ago.
I search for myself amongst these things we think we need and wonder how and why and who am I.
I’m left with lineage, love, anguish and tremor. Pain, paint, passion and woes. But this my friend is where my garden grows. From ashes and fire from human desire.
These are the things I’ve become.
Of drink and desire and maddening rage, one name, one word my love for I am he.
Benjamin,.. is all that I be.
A life in progress
A man and his vices
Mixed media ink wash and acrylics
200.usd ***alternative title: Smoking man his wine and her lover***
I decided on both but for the want of not making you see the things I see I chose the other title.
I miss you like the leaves
Miss the springs sun
After the warms rains have
Washed the detritus
from the day
As the cool autumn night
Guides the inborn fire of life
Taking seed once again
So do the stars flirt high above
Giving winks to their lovers
From a lifetime away.
Such sorrow these sweet
Lips bare, for the yearning
Of a tender hearts calling.
Born not of bitter bread
And sleepless night.
But of childish passion
that craves the touch of
a tempted heart.
Do these words linger
on the tongue like the
Lost dreams of a forgotten
Come to me…see me for
The poetic fool and passionate
paint I bleed…… For they are real
not made of black and white.
See me this broken knight on
See me for who I am not whom you think I should be…..
There once was a time when slept
I slept with dreams of my own
Calm and peaceful in the night sky.
Gentle summer breeze through a window
Left open just enough…
Just enough to keep away the demons of the night…
Now I find myself with coffee and words
In the small hours of the night
Wandering the halls of this hollow home,….
As I’ve done so many times before.
Bach in the background as my fingers find the keys to ease my worried mind
and wanten heart.
Poetic justice for a painters pulse
To wander with words so late in the night with these small place and faces
that haunt my desires and dreams,
Keeping paint at bay till the words stop
Falling from the sky. Slipping from my lips to your heart..
I can almost feel you breathe
There once was a time when I slept…..
Often after I’ve been in hiatus from the paint I like to start slow and ease my was back into it. Below are three pieces I’ll be developing over the next couple if days just to get some paint moving in the studio. One of them is very very near completion already but I’m not going to say which one because I may completely change my mind.
First I’ll bring you the woman figure I started before I left. She’s in a very simple color block form at the moment.
Second I’d like you to meet
A man and his vices….might be a lot going on here for those with a curious eye…..
Hmmmm…. This piece I actually like rather a lot. But then I am that man and his vices of which I’ve had many in my life some good some not so good. But at least I can say it’s been a full life.
Lastly a piece that was planned for England but I simply couldn’t make it happen. Honestly I was far to overwhelmed emotionally on this last trip.
This last piece I like the form, motion and colors so I most likely will not scrap it. But as I often say if it isn’t signed it isn’t done ;)
It’s nice to be in the studio again even though I feel a bit lost this days. Coming home is always hard and some choices are going to need to be made soon…… We shall see…
I hope the day/night has been kind to you and you to it.