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+last of "Sampuesanos" set. arranged and painted in the "arte macanudo" style of the 50-70's
this set is best seen on black.
Another of several sketches I found going through my things that I’d done I now realize in the decade from about 2001 to 2011. More to come shortly but for now this discontented fellow …
MERCI POUR VOTRE AIMABLE ATTENTION!
THANKS FOR YOUR KIND ATTENTION!
recent commission: varnished watercolor on gessoed panel, 40' x 30". Gone to live in Melbourne, Florida.
*dare if you will; early sunrise crossing the river" from my new set of watercolors on paper titled: "discovering America" youtu.be/e97isb0e5nQ
#nature #photography #abstract #water #photo #art #fountain #california #sfbayarea #sanfrancisco #abstract #macrophotography
#abstract #kunst #abstractart #arte #artcontemporain #originalart #contemporaryart #abstractcomposition #todaysartreport #abstraktekunst #abstractart_daily #abstracto #abstractexpressionism #artnow
Tea-toned cyanotype.
I’m thinking now about the notion of collective grief, something that has gripped our world in recent weeks. Grief and I are certainly not strangers. Profound loss has touched my life a few times, and I’m still grieving my hysterectomy. My folded wings, however, are starting to twitch again. The urge to soar is innate in us all. As my force is returning, I thought I would offer this to those who might be in need...
Writer Glennon Doyle talks about the need to hold vigil for those enshrouded in the cocoon of grief. This poem speaks to that.
Archive
Within each of us there is an archive of loss,
A library of longing,
Volumes of unspoken wishes,
Ethereal as ribbons of mist on a November morning,
Guarded in the veiled chambers of the heart,
Laced into the hens of our skirts,
Tucked just behind our eyelids,
Rest now, dear one,
On this bed of crimson roses,
I will sing to you if butterflies on the wing,
Of wildflowers and shooting stars,
Of summer rains and falling leaves,
I will fashion you a crown of daisies and bluebells,
And a boutonnière of rosemary for remembrance,
Though it hurts, we must never forget,
I will burn the sage,
I will fix a cup of tea,
I will hold the candle,
Steadfast, unfailing,
Whenever you are ready,
Let me be the light
To help guide you back home.
#22 on Explore on 07/22/07...
I finally finished this today. My mother's name was Jane. She loved flowers. I love whimsical. So I combined the two. The title means way more than I can explain here, but I used to be addicted to drugs. Bad drugs. And my mother stood by me no matter how crazy or fucked up I acted. She was always there for me. She never once turned her back on me. Even when I stole from her and told her I hated her, she still loved me. I am not proud of that period of my life but I am no longer ashamed of it. It helped build a LOT of character in me and helped me to realize not to take certain things for granted. I have been clean for 20 years. My mother has been dead for 8 years and sometimes I miss her more now than I did right after she died. It sucks not having a mother. Especially since my mother was my best friend too.
I wish that I could give this to her today. She had a very nice house. The kind where you have to take off your shoes when you walk in. And she was very picky about everything. But I know that if I gave her this painting today, even though it looks like something a ten year old did, she would probably spend $300 or $400 getting it framed and she would hang it where everyone could see it and she would tell everyone who came over that her daughter painted that for her. And if it didn't match anything in her house, she would paint the wall to match it. Because she was cool like that.
Sorry, I think my lack of sleep is catching up with me. I'll shut up now.