On this darkest day oh hollow man shed this wanten skin….
Bleed no more for these wanten things
That cause pause to a soldiers heart.
Such fragile breath on angels wings
Bared ones heart to scissored strings.
Never more shall I go into the darkness alone.
Never more shall I throw stones
In glass houses
Never more shall I sing of things to the tune of a def ear and blinded eye.
Silent such voided love and fill this cup with pain and paint.
Fill this vessel oh world of wonder for this knight grows long in the hall of unrequited love..
Born of mystery and misery…. Of healing want in one hand and a lovers whip in another..
Fly…fly away with the birds and the bees.
Flowers and trees for these things have no place in this heart of darkness.
These halls are mine.. And mine alone…
Cursed to wander for a thousand , thousand years…
Alone…me and these words…. Me and this paint that grows…
****apparently it’s time for me to write, as with most people who express themselves through the written word I go through phases. Though I’m clearly a painter and not a writer nor do I really care to be. I’m often told my words are touching, to that I give much thanks. Some of my words come from memories of things I’ve felt and some of them come from they way I’m feeling or feel about a certain thing. But alas they are just the words and feelings of a humble painter.
*** please join me in a experience I’d like to share with you. Would you kindly…. When reading these following words put on your most Shakespearean thinking voice. It is an important part of this journey I’d like to share with you. I will do my best to marry some images that I feel may help evoke or convey the unspoken emotional context as well.
Oh melancholy metaphorical metaphor:
On what heart strings does this muse
play a song I’ve never heard
Yet hold captive such a lions heart.
That, fore which has only fed on the
sight of its hearts desire
and heard only the whispered words
from which lips may have spoken.
They do so haunt every thought
as such brutal silence grows.
Stay this tongue now with sweet arrows of disconnect forever
or take me in your soul forevermore.
Quell this maddening hunger with one soft word
oh muse of muses.
Harken to the silent dawn of ink less quill and sleepless night
as I wait your vacuous embrace,
To pull this lion heart from the depths
of wanten remorse and lipless embrace..
Silence…Oh crickets in the night…., so sing with the frog prince no more….
If I showed you the heart of the child would you promise not to laugh?
And if I held you in my shaking arms
Would you tremble with me or walk away.
Does the depth of your heart run deeper than this electric light
Or is it shallow like a river run dry
Could it be an ocean or deepest of loch
Warmed by an evening breeze
Gentle to the skin and kind of heart
Does it require all that I am or can it stand against
these turbulent waves that crash against the shores of my mind.
Deep and rooted like trees of the gods.
Entangled in emotions deeper than hell itself.
Fear not of the child’s heart that weeps at the sound of bird song
Or the smell of roses
for a soldiers armor guards this heart with with sharpened tongue
And words that sting.
Lay by my side or walk with me in the night and you shall have but a piece of this guarded heart to hold and call your own forever and a day. For I would give it all away I am nothing yet have always been
full and empty, craving yet lack nothing. Neither angel or demon nor child and man,
**This is not poetic, nor happy it’s also not a cry for help. It simply just is.
I’ve come to hate mornings
They leave me broken and tired
Recovering from my dance with the
There was a time when the dawn called my name
with a glorious song and colors flooded my world.
Now I find only pain and the relentless crush of this disease.
There are no words I can give you that truly explain the
persistence of Parkinson’s disease. It simply never stops.
Never let’s go. There are times that I want to just be done
be done fighting. Be done taking pills for pain and pills
to replace the chemicals my brain no longer makes.
There was a time when the mornings song was a gift
the predawn stillness, the first birds of the day.
Me and a strong espresso, dreaming of all the
things I’d fill my life with.
Now its a race, a race for the first pills of the day
a race to stay one step ahead of the pain. A race to
learn the tricks of he brain as my cognitive functions change.
as I sit here and write these words out of my head and heart
placing them in space instead of myself, I feel the sadness settle
in. This sadness tells me its time to go, it tells me I’ve
rested to long in this place of thought and self analyzing
deprecation. So I leave you with these thoughts from a
man who has been graced with a life full of adventure
love and heartbreak. Don’t wait for life to give you the
things you want. You must make them happen. You must visualize
yourself in the place you want to be and make it so. For tomorrow
never comes so must seize the day or forever let it slip away. The Long Road
Acrylics and Ink
2012 Parkinson’s Series
Given the light that shines from your eyes
how could I not be blinded by you beauty.
You words entrance even the most silent of knights
guiding him to his home in your heart.
A gift given only to angels, more soft than a
silken thread could ever yearn to be.
I crave the taste if your lips, the sweet nectar of life
only a women can offer.
Such blissful escape does my muse offer,
yet bound by time and space as my wolf heart hungers
for your embrace.
If I gave you my heart would you ask
Would turn away at the sight of my broken soul
left to wander for a thousand years of war.
On what yonder eyes does the Light fall so softly to cause this heart to require your touch.
Has a man ever seen such beauty in a life only to have it just out of reach.
These horizons cross the minds of wondering souls searching for the gift of a calm sea to quell the desires of the heart.
Only in the gift of freedom from self do you find the child beneath the sleeping tree dreaming of better days in a soft summer breeze.
Willows weep no more for your child has found his home in the heart of many, the minds of a few and the body of one.
~Oh holy knight~
Such hollow hands hold this broken heart.
Time and time again tears fall on silent ears
Words less spoken, but screamed at the night.
Why do our hearts darken over time.
Has life beaten the life out of us? Stolen our
Memories and replaced them with thorns
Torn from words thrown like knives.
This body deceives me
acts as if it’s
going to let me be free
Holds me frozen in thought and time
waiting and watching as
others ponder my actions
Words slip slowly….liquid fluid in my
Mind but fail to flow from my lips.
~What time is it~
Can you see that clock…?
The one that calls your name…
I’ve seen mine and it screams run.
So I ran.. Far and wide till I could
Hear it’s screams no more..
Then I woke..to a clock screaming my
Name and I ran…
A lonely heart yearns for what it has not.
But a calm place to rest the head and heart.
A space that let’s the soul sing and the knights fire come alive.
Tis but a place in books and the memory of men that this hollow heart once remembers.
Given such days of love and want.
Gone with each passing moment does a dying man find comfort in small word of black and white.
It rained again and I thought of you alone in the mirror wondering how and why..
How and why has this loathsome ache replaced the beating heart.
Has not love filled it’s chambers a thousand times for a thousand years.
I give you love not written in paper nor sung in song but eternal in the knights sky for he and me are I
Given the hearts of man pulled by the stars above
and the oceans below tis no surprise
our wandering hearts break so easily.
Great knights with armor so
do carry that burden of the stars and below.
With each ebb and tide as the moon wanes
as so do I, find myself caught
In the tide wash and flow.
Such madness of being
these heartstrings and things.
Paint and prose a wild growing rose
Kisses at midnight and tickling toes.
All these things of a guarded heart knows
Yet simply keeps kept where
the secret garden grows.
Good morning, I can’t even begin to tell you how absolutely wonderful it is to see you here today. Or for that matter how lovely it is for me to be here this morning. As you may or may not know since my move out to the country I have gained a private studio space, heated with separate entrance real windows and an office. (which still isn’t set up) One of the things that I didn’t take into consideration when I moved was the fact that I was no longer living with some of the amenities of the city such as a the bus, or having my son and daughter even remotely close to the schools that they attend. Oops, poor planning on my part. So there are days when I literally have mere moments to myself before I have to attend to the needs of others.
Such is life. That being said it does give even greater pleasure to the time I do get to spend in the studio. Below you will find a number of pieces **All of which are works in progress, please join me as we take a short walk through my most recent adventures.
This piece is very close to being finish, its comprised of gold flake enamel and various cadmium of yellow, orange and white.
“The Last Dance” 9″ x 12″ mixed media 2014
This piece has yet to receive it final definitive depth coat a signature final varnish or truly be finished but I’ve had this image and feeling in my head and heart for weeks. If you will let me take you to your (our) past. That feeling of the last dance of the night, or a long good-bye from a date that started and ended innocently 24 hours after it started. I know I’m not verbally expressing myself well but that joy and longing, sense of completion yet a yearning for it to go on forever even though you know its time to go…. That is what I’m trying to express in this piece and will once completed. Hopefully to be completed after my morning tasks today.
This lovely miss is just a charcoal drawing that took about 1 minute to do ( 12′x 24″)honestly I am just looking at placement of the figures getting an idea of location, form and feeling. I’m going to be combing (hopefully) a number of styles into this piece. The Goodnight moon, idea with my classic figure style as well as a little surrealism done in the same fashion as Green Girl. We shall just have to wait and see how it all goes could work, could not.
by now everyone should be able to recognize this collection with their eyes closed , yes its a Coral piece one of two and it is very, very early in its development. As a matter of fact it only has one color so now its just a giant orange blob but I guarantee that will change shortly. If you haven’t had a chance to stop by and see the Love piece in its new frame then please do so, I think it turned out rather well. As always, Be Brave Be Bold and Thrive in the life you have. Should you ever need reminding of how truly gifted, special, unique and important you are to the world please come see me and we’ll talk. For it’s always harder to see the light you create for others when your standing in the middle of it.