‘see’ turtle

tortoiseArmored carapace
marries this hide to my hundred-year-old body
This union of protection

sallies my ancient form through waters
older than you or I
Brothers and sisters
honor the places your body moves upon
Respect the glory of the four elements
with guardianship as infinite as the heavens
Do not let your watchful eyes wither
like naked flesh in burning sand

I must breathe
You must breathe

Oceans must breathe
Do you understand
I only ask because
it seems many have forgotten

s’words’

your words
smolder into sabers
pierce my naive imagination
while I tend inked sheep
you dance with spirited stallions
upon thoughts ignited by hoof spark

I will drink your sharp wine
let it dizzy my head and spin my body
then I’ll wander
inebriated through the forest
back to the safety of my paper cottage
before your perfect flames
burn down my underdone dwelling

Marilyn hands/oil

Marilyn hands/oil

MM in oil, painted, oh gosh, in 1982 during my Marilyn phase. MM to many ‘perfect’ to behold, to others ‘sadness’ by peroxide…

against a thick crimson sky

lone soldier

this day is not ours to decide
it is done
some had no choice
sacrifices made
youthful years in hell
bodies and minds disabled
parentless children
forever missing
white markers
against a thick crimson sky
we commemorate those
living daily nightmares
eternal memories stowed
in footlockers
those of us 
untouched by blood
this day stand beside
those who act(ed) honorably
who often return(ed) alone
these dutiful hearts
must never
sense anything
but respect
compassion
evermore…
pop Germanymy father-in-law while stationed in Germany
below, enjoying his US return
with his beautiful girl who was to become my mother-in-law
below that photo, one from 1919 LeMans, France
my father-in-law’s father #95
war returnLeMans, France 1919

Phantasms of Fantasy

she is not fearful
monster habitats
are not of this world
loved ones reinforce
and echo friendly books
monsters are creative figments
phantasms of fantasy
into dollhouse she is not fearful
monster habitats
are not of this world
learned now
she reminds herself
monsters are creative figments
phantasms of fantasy
buck fifty headline – RAMPAGE
closet monstermonsters
are not of this world
she is learned
she reminds herself

May you dream of safety for all the world’s children.

Photo of delicate daughter taken 14 years ago in her most favorite house, monster on black sketched on printer paper while subbing yesterday, marker added at home.

The Truth About My Art

My Friends,
When someone places an artist’s hat upon my head, I often feel unworthy. I’m not glued nightly to a canvas. I’m not angst-ridden at 3 am. I don’t take myself very seriously.

The truth about my art…
There isn’t a prestigious fine art degree, but there is greatly advanced naiveté.
There haven’t been decades of rendering, but there have been years of creative struggle.
There isn’t an artist hiding in my house, but there is one hiding in my brain.
There isn’t a grand studio filled with en plein air studies and sable brushes in old coffee cans.
There is a room off the kitchen built with a hammer and nails,
by a creative husband for his emotional wife.

Self/acrylic

Self/acrylic

I hope this painting (featured once before) keeps my blog’s PG13 rating – as I consider these subjects nude, but not naked 🙂
Thank you. May you dream of wearing many hats and loving them all.

Self is one of my larger acrylic pieces – 4 ft x 4 ft. Painted in 1997 (if memory serves)

Ra, Ra, Cursive No Mah

My Friends,
“In 1928, in Egypt, a strange device is found by an expedition. In the present days, the outcast linguist Dr. Daniel Jackson is invited by a mysterious woman to decipher an ancient hieroglyph in a military facility.” – Stargate. The giant husband was watching this 1994 ‘futuristic’ movie last night.

In the brief synopsis above the words, linguist, decipher and hieroglyph whisper like hidden pyramid treasures. Between fake Ra maiming humans and an awkward linguist deciphering glyphs, Stargate fashioned a perfect springboard for utilizing my Egyptian fella and chatting about the demise of handwriting. Centuries before we touched screens, our fingers created cryptic images, developed fascinating symbols and pressed elegant writing implements in thought.

In the Fall of 2014, the giant husband and I attended the delicate daughter’s Honor Society Ceremony. Yes, we were proud. She works very hard and strives to do well. The irony in this celebratory evening was that many bright students, the delicate daughter included, took a long time signing the Honor Ledger. Signing in cursive didn’t come naturally to them. And why would it, when third grade was the last time they practiced loops and lines.

Today while we record our history electronically, many students struggle with the very concept of handwriting. Human history was born the instant we began writing it down. Our ‘current’ history is saved to digital devices, removable media and clouds in the ozone. A solar flare, an electrical burst…yikes! We might want to rethink the importance of handwriting especially since synthetic paper can be made from recycled plastic. We can label the return to handwriting – Retro Ink. Maybe the kiddies will think it’s something cool. And perhaps we could use a slogan like – When you think, put it in ink!
RaRa is the Egyptian Sun God and Father of the Gods. He symbolizes light, warmth and growth.

We grow by learning. We learn by reading. We read by writing… Thank you. May you dream of sailing on beautiful cursive letters with golden sails.

Ra created about one month ago for what reason I’m not sure other than to say I initially was planning to do some sort of bird… The pencil wants what the pencil wants. 🙂
Stargate Movie synopsis quote from IMDb.com

Sending thoughts of peace to France…

Hear the Bells

Dear Friends,
A Christmas song that remains near to my heart, like the satin chime of a throaty bell is the tune, I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day. The passionate words were written on December 25, 1864 by a master of American poetry, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Wadsworth’s prose were polished into a shimmering melody by John Baptiste Calkin in 1872.
Though Wadsworth penned this song beneath the onus of war, I like to imagine it represents worldwide peace arrived at nonviolently…
Christmas BellsI love playing “Bells,” on my piano (albeit badly). I don’t practice as much as a should. Hmm, is there a New Year’s Resolution ringing in my ears? 🙂
my pianoThank you. May you fall asleep to the sweet lullaby of magical bells…
Galeen’s Bell Song rendered a week ago after plinking the ivories awhile. I couldn’t get Rocky the Shepherd or Mojo the Dachshund to pose, so Snoopy signed on for a very reasonable rate. 🙂