Thursday, January 31, 2013

Pablo, Pablo...

If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

I am a complete and new fan.

I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You by Pablo Neruda

I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.

I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.

Pablo Neruda

Thursday, January 17, 2013

Color Blocking

This is the next step in the St. James painting. You can see how thin the paint is at this point. Many layers will be added, colors will change, details will emerge. But this is the normal progression. Working title "My heart did fly to your service." May be too long. May be shortened to "My heart did fly". Eh, I'll figure it out.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Working, working...and loving it.

 "Single Sweetness". For the O'Keeffe show. May be done. Got to sit with it a few days. The inspiration, "Black Place Green" by Georgia is below my image.

 This is the beginning of the next one, sketched in. It's a portion of St. James Church in Newark, Delaware.
Below is the beginning of the color block.
And this is the inspiration piece of Georgia's, "Part of the Cliff". My painting, of course, is part of St. James, and both have a vertical feel with similar colors and sky.

Monday, January 14, 2013

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Ballad of Love and Hate

To you.

Love writes a letter and sends it to hate.
My vacations ending. I'm coming home late.
The weather was fine and the ocean was great
and I can't wait to see you again.

Hate reads the letter and throws it away.
"No one here cares if you go or you stay.
I barely even noticed that you were away.
I'll see you or I won't, whatever."

Love sings a song as she sails through the sky.
The water looks bluer through her pretty eyes.
And everyone knows it whenever she flies,
and also when she comes down.

Hate keeps his head up and walks through the street.
Every stranger and drifter he greets.
And shakes hands with every loner he meets
with a serious look on his face.

Love arrives safely with suitcase in tow.
Carrying with her the good things we know.
A reason to live and a reason to grow.
To trust. To hope. To care.

Hate sits alone on the hood of his car.
Without much regard to the moon or the stars.
Lazily killing the last of a jar
of the strongest stuff you can drink.

Love takes a taxi, a young man drives.
As soon as he sees her, hope fills his eyes.
But tears follow after, at the end of the ride,
cause he might never see her again.

Hate gets home lucky to still be alive.
He screams o'er the sidewalk and into the drive.
The clock in the kitchen says 2:55,
And the clock in the kitchen is slow.

Love has been waiting, patient and kind.
Just wanting a phone call or some kind of sign,
That the one that she cares for, who's out of his mind,
Will make it back safe to her arms.

Hate stumbles forward and leans in the door.
Weary head hung, eyes to the floor.
He says "Love, I'm sorry", and she says, "What for?
I'm yours and that's it, Whatever.
I should not have been gone for so long.
I'm yours and that's it, forever."

You're mine and that's it, forever.

It's light at 5:15.

 Well, already at January 10. Chugging along with no snow yet, and can I get an Hallelujah? Considering how much I prayed for and loved snow as a kid, it's funny how now I cringe about it. Though if I had no place to go and plenty of wine and food, I'd be okay with a little snow-in.
 Here's Chloe, working on a portrait lesson at the Bethany Library with me. I asked her to do a face with hair, a neck and features. She said she wouldn't be good at it, and I told her that was okay, just to draw it the best she could. The drawing on the left is what she did. The drawing on the right is after about 40 minutes of instruction from me.
 And below is my mini-Sedona, being bulldozed in my backyard. I am very happy to see this eyesore go. A very large construction dirt pile that has been behind my house for going on four years. When I get home tonight, it should be gone or nearly gone. Big smiles.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Pablo Neruda

Carnal Apple, Woman Filled, Burning Moon,’

Carnal apple, Woman filled, burning moon,
dark smell of seaweed, crush of mud and light,
what secret knowledge is clasped between your pillars?
What primal night does Man touch with his senses?
Ay, Love is a journey through waters and stars,
through suffocating air, sharp tempests of grain:
Love is a war of lightning,
and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness.
Kiss by kiss I cover your tiny infinity,
your margins, your rivers, your diminutive villages,
and a genital fire, transformed by delight,
slips through the narrow channels of blood
to precipitate a nocturnal carnation,
to be, and be nothing but light in the dark.

Cactus Flowers - in progress.

 Because I am now totally addicted to unusual names for my paintings, Cactus Flower is just a working title. Just started this one last night, so this is just the initial blocking of colors. This is about 30 minutes of work.
 This one will go quickly, and there will be some additional colors in the background as well. This is step 2, with a few lights and darks being added.

And this....this is the Christmas shot of my kids and me, which I had to argue with them about. They definitely did NOT want to have our picture taken, in Stingray, without primping. This is us without effort. :) Getting the three of us together in one spot is difficult, so I grabbed the opportunity while I could. I was cracking up at this moment, due to their loud objections. We hid it pretty well though, right?

Monday, January 7, 2013

Case of You too.

I'm a lonely painter
I live in a box of paints

No I'm not. But I do love those two lines. Future names for paintings.

Thursday, January 3, 2013

To Georgia, With Love - a 2-person show with artists Kim Klabe and Nick Serratore, will open on Saturday June 1, 2013 at the Peninsula Gallery in Lewes, Delaware. More details to come!

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Come to my Senses

This is mostly done, and inspired by Georgia O'Keeffe's crosses in the desert. Such as this one.....

My goal is not to copy, but to honor. Hopefully I'm achieving that.

This one is called "Ends of the Earth" and is nearly done.

It's inspired by Georgia's many floral paintings, such as this one:

Fun stuff. More to come.


Another year down!

2012 was one of those "eh" years. Nothing earth shatteringly great, no real surprises, no real hardships. So all in all, not so bad. I ended with a few too many speeding tickets (ironic, considering I'm not a fast driver, but I do live in a small town, surrounded by small towns, with very slow speed limits.)

Dustin is a senior in college and Haley is a senior in high school, and I am mostly an empty nester. Dustin has been home for the holidays with a month off, and WOW....I forgot how quickly a room can be trashed. Takes minutes. Literally. And I have gotten used to laundry/shopping/cooking for one. I did laundry for an entire day over the weekend. Piles of it. Like old times.

It was a good election year, with a lot of BAD politics. Crazy stuff going on there and we stand divided as a country. That, is truly sad.

My New Year's resolution is relatively simple. I'd like to practice more yoga. It does wonders for my spirit/mind/body as it is expected to do, and I have neglected my personal practice. I can change that.

I will bring in the first four months of 2013 painting Georgia O'Keeffe inspired paintings and loving every minute of it. This is the most excited I have been about painting in a year. Nothing like a fresh, exciting project to fire me up.

Embrace your friends and your family, because it's really true that they can walk out of your life at any moment, either by choice, by illness or death or by relocating. Funny how quickly it can happen, and it's always crushingly sad.

I've learned that boundaries are important. And as long as you set your own boundaries, they are absolutely right. Self-respect is always more important than pleasing others. To thine own self....and all that. A great quote that was given to me a few months ago, to which I cannot determine an author, goes" Give the gift of your absence to those who do not appreciate your presence." That one gives me peace.

Happy 2013, hope springs eternal, let's make it memorable!