The day was made for you.

The morning chill came today for the first time this summer.
Her cool touch eased the day and
gave comfort as it stroked gardens of our home.
A gentle light towards the east gave way to the day as I brushed the light from eyes.
Such beauty caused by the passage of time, the breath in our bodies and the memories on our minds.
Today was made for you my love, the sun calls your name a thousand times before waking your sleeping body from it’s past life.
Come to me my sweet love and let me show this day made only for you. Come to me and let me show you how beautiful our world can be.

“A life in progress”


Words~All for a better rose.

** All for a better rose**

As we change and rearrange the shapes of ours lives.
It causes me great pause to digest the future in the wind.
To what end do we fill these voids with things and toys
Of girls or boys whispers and noise.
Shall we give it all away and start a new
No that’s been done and it’s no fun
it always just
Starts again.
More stuff and things
big fancy rings, but what
of what we create.
To paint or prose to heal others woes
or listen with eyes wide with Intent.
It’s all so strange as I enter the next stage and watch the colors wash away.
One minute a need, a want a glimmer of hope.
The next your dead, to worms you’ll be feed
All for a better rose

Originally written.
“Sometimes words continue to ring true long after they’ve been written and forgotten.”

Wine, words and women


Where to begin….? With a long discussion about Bacchus or perhaps a literary discussion about the finer points of the comma and women oh dear me don’t even get me started on that subject… It’s been a bad week… I know it’s Tuesday ( Saturday now)but remember time and dates for me sadly are drifting away long with the things I used to know. Slowly fading into a book lost along the way and beautiful story with the saddest of endings…. Women…. Eventually I’ll write my book “letters from home” or “death,dying and divorce” some things I’m far to familiar with. Life short my friends… Enjoy what you have..

“A Tree for Madeline”
I’ve finally clear the table for new work.. Well that’s not entirely true I have a large commission piece that I’ll be doing this November for a very ready friend, writer, poet and all around amazing woman. During the time being my paint table is open and I intend to dig deep in the heart if darkness, love and light for my next collection of work. I feel like I’m on the edge of a new powerful vision just waiting to be born.

In the interim I’ve started a piece In calling
“Me, myself and I”
10/24/14 well let’s see it’s only taken me 5 days since I started this post to stay focused enough to press the post button. I figure I should press post before I we get any older.
**please know this… Where ever you are and what ever your doing. You have worth, value, talent and strength. I know sometimes it’s hard to see, but that’s what friends are for, to remind us of all the things we can’t see but need the most.

Much love.
“A life in progress”

Originally posted on AngelsAlley24:


View original


Wandering rhymes and paint

Today I’m left wandering
As my thoughts keep on pondering
What direction shall this life I lead go.
So many words and fluttering
Caught in a rainbow made of gold.
Maybe I’ll ask my friend Crow
For maybe just maybe he,ll know
Which way to go.
All of this paint and words from the saints of.
What colours do you see, as I set them free?
So many thought of haves and have nots.
How it all started I plainly forgot.
But know we are here and things are quite clear.
In a blink if an eye we all disappear.
So love what you have and take what you’ve got.
Give only the good for the bad has it’s spot
And frankly my dear I’ve heard it’s quite hot.
Thank you my friends for coming to see
The poetish painter., just me…..B.

And remember to always.
Be brave, be bold and thrive in the life you have.


vetus anima:

Originally written 2013
vetus anima:

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 and 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.


It’s funny….an observation..

It’s funny how life changes us… We hunt and gather the things we think we need all our lives surrounding ourselves in a big plastic bubble. Looking out at the world as it spins by at speeds often times faster than the mind can fathom and then suddenly stops. Leaving us crashing about in our self made bubbles.
The recent events of my life have left me feeling this way more so than I could ever hope to eloquently express in words or paint. As I watch the dust of the life I thought I had settle around the life I have left I often wonder why, and what for does all this madness of the heart mean. Lost souls crashing about in their ( our ) bubbles hoping blindly and at other times with great foreknowledge that future things will be more great or somehow better than the day before….
As I sit in the studio rummaging the remnants of my old life, picking up the pieces I’d like to carry forward to the new I wonder….. For what purpose…. I read a story about hope this morning that has got me thinking a great deal about these things, all to often I feel broken, tired, misguided and lost in my sea of colour and words. Emotions spilling over into the common lives of those around me…. I stand dripping in wonder and dismay at myself… Have I arrived or wandered so far off track that I’ve lost all hope of finding the child I seek. Is he, am I buried under the weight of a poetish painter. Or is the poetish painter the boy I seek. Am I to be that hope and star for others or to myself when at times all I see is the blindness of the nothing I see in front of me…… That endless stream if random floating choices… Door two, no three or four… Pick one!!! Pick six doors!!!!? At times I wonder if it even really matters which door we pick or what colour it is. As the outcome often feels the same as we ( I ) travel down these same paths again and again until we finally find that light switch that’s been hiding in the dark all these years.
I have to say today….. I hate this new life… I hate the loneliness of it. I hate the fear if it and the constant change of it. To go from hopeful and blind to scared and alone and thus back again full circle has made me bitter and tired. Yet I’m forever hopeful.. Seems like a self fulfilling collision course with disappointment at times. Disappointing myself, disappointing those around me as I blindly stumble through this life searching for a light I’m not even sure is still on…
Any how that’s enough rambling from me this this morning/afternoon and evening. Today I’ll hide from the world and paint my heart, spill my soul and vanish in the night to hopefully wake again tomorrow with a new sense of hope. Now for paint:
Reminiscent of Rothko meeting Dali on the moon as the blues fade and block into what will be a dividing line a moon floats gently just above the waters edge casting a shadow that finds itself wrapped around and transforming… Not unlike myself at this moment.

The face… Thoughtful and pondering, the form female and full always just out of reach.
It’s funny how if we look at something from a different perspective it looks completely new

** all of the pieces shown here today are unfinished and subject to complete and utter change but that’s life right…’s funny..just an observation.

As always try… To be brave… Be bold… And thrive in the life you have.. For we never know when things will change..

A life in progress


Words and things.

As I lay me down to sleep
I pray The Lord my soul to keep
From darkest dreams and silent screams
From all these thoughts
In endless streams.
Complex verse and curses terse
Please spare my aching heart.
The pain that echoes the fear
Shadowed by the unknown gives way
To only a brighter day should the sun
Ever truly rise in these blue blue eyes.
As I lay me down to sleep
The knight time demons begin to creep
In frozen hip and tongues that slip
Into the nothing that is tomorrow’s
Tomorrow resting in today’s dreams.
Stay these things of dreams, for the
Day comes so quickly and the moon is a lifetime away.

Art from google images.

me 045

New Start….New Studio*** Rant

Many of you know about some of the most private details of my life at this point..

Some of you would even say I’ve over shared…
I guess that’s the beauty of what happens here we all have a choice. To come together under a common bond and share the joys and
sorrows of each others lives. Some to comment, some to watch from the shadows and judge. Either way I made a decision when I first started
blog to be open. Many people forget that this site didn’t start as an Art blog but as my personal journal cataloging my life and struggles with coming to
terms with Young Onset Parkinson’s disease. This journey has taken me around the united states and abroad I’m happy to say I’ve shared every step along the ways, the good the bad and the very ugly personal truths of my life that in reality many of us share in common but would never put out there the way I do.

I’ve said it before and Ill stand by it. I’m a man, no different than any other with the slight exception that I paint and write my heart and soul for all to see. I end 99% of my posts with a kind word. And I pose some hard questions and thoughts because I believe that one man and one voice can change the world.
Art and words have lost their meaning and I will not stand for it another second. For if YOU will not Be Brave and Be Bold or Thrive in the life you have….. I will. If given the chance I would take your hand and shout your name from the roof tops to show the world your brilliance and compassion. Live your words or don’t use them at all. At this point I’ve lost all of it. My job, my career my home and my family and Ill be dammed if I’m going to silence my heart and soul now.
I just received word that I’ve been accepted into a local art co-op. 4 floors of prime down town retail, commercial and loft living space. A place that is positioning its self at the edge of creating an new feel a new scene thriving and ready to make Art believable again. Any person can put brush to canvas, lead to paper and glue a stone to a ring. But only a few can create through there passion to express that love, fear and strength through their art. So again I say…to you.
Be Brave, Be Bold and Thrive in the life you have…
No… life is not easy for any of us. But if I can live through the things I’ve seen, done and had happen to me then you can too. I believe in you. I’ve seen your strength, beauty and passion.


That’s all I’ve to say.
“A life in progress”


**It’s our turn…..Let’s show them what we can do.**

**It’s our turn…..Let’s show them what we can do.**

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… 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….


Ink drawing done by Picasso

Tempest~The Heart of an Artist


The Story behind the Art and Artist of Tempest:
Id like to say my life was a fairy tale full of dreams fulfilled, wishes granted
and time well spent. To do so would be far from the truth and a rather boring story.
In Tempest we see the turbulent clouds of dark purple and green both colors hopeful yet full
of a troubled heart and life. Struggling to find my way on this new path that life has chosen for me.
The form of the figure one could say is female in its curves full of soft sweeping motion and a resemblance
of a musical clef. I her shoulder and breast is a figurative form of infinity giving reference to a belief that I have
that all things are one both past and present. Also in reference to our human cycle of life destined to
repeat our pasts until the puzzle is solved.
She holds her head high above the sky yet in a position of sadness as so often I do. Sad for the hurt in this world,
sad for the hurt in my soul. The window shines a soft yet illuminating light and for me is also the window to my heart
and soul. of two minds hoping to give light to those I encounter in this lifetime and the light that shines out of the darkness
that I so often find myself in. One could ask how someone so tormented could always wishes everyone well, joy, love and happiness.
Its simple I don’t ever want anyone to live through see or feel things that I’ve experienced in my life.
The window, of hope in the darkness.
The spheres find their way to the Tempests side as she stands strong in the calm of the dark purple calm.
Circles, we could write a book on the metaphorical meaning of the circle. Matter of fact there is probably
a guy sipping scotch on a beach somewhere who has. For me in this piece the are eternal, life, death alpha and omega.
From one we have the tree of life emerging from the darkness of the shadow. An ever-present reminder that even in
the darkest of times life will find a way to carry on. From the other sphere we have a cord somewhat of an umbilical
to the tempest also representing the twists and turn of this elegant dance of existence we call life.
Please take from this piece what you will it has and never will be my intent to force my will upon the viewer.
Life is hard, mine, yours, his and hers but life is also beautiful full of hidden graces.
The spring breeze scented with flowers that come but once a year.
Summer sunsets so magical people make a living chasing them down to simply capture the moment.
A child’s first breath and the unconditional love of an old friend.
First kisses and last dances these are the things that make weathering the storm worth living.

So it is with these words from my heart to yours I give you and world.
The Tempest.

Tempest ~ My Girl Collection
41.5″ x 48.5′
Mixed media
Inks and Acrylics

Close up 1.

Close up 2.

Close up 3.

Where we started..
As always Be Brave, Be Bold and Thrive in the life you have.

A life in Progress
**Ink sketch done by Picasso