The Real Measure

“In My Little Town, I never meant nothin’, I was just my father’s son” (Paul Simon)

….and when I grew up
I realized that the thoughts of men
Cannot make us who we are
Nor can they remove the good we do with sincere hearts
It is only the small among us
Who find fault with good things

Thoughts do not carry the load
Words, no matter how harmful
Float away on the lightest of breezes

And when the fires come
The measure of a soul
Will be found in the kindness
Afforded to others

The rest
Is useless weight

Sudden is Life

In general.
Nothing changes. Everything changes.
Everything stays the same. Nothing stays the same.
Everything happens for a reason.
Except time and chance.

Since May, I’ve lost most of the mobility in my right arm. “Frozen shoulder” they call it, with rotator cuff issues. The pain teaches me limitations. Limitations are ignored while sleeping, so in pain I wake up throughout the night. The evidence of most painkillers’ association with memory/cognitive decline keeps me away from those. So, it’s ginger tea or turmeric. Physical therapy is “thawing” out the issue. My Orthopedic Doc will likely shoot me up with cortisone to speed up the process.
With that, I recognize what a blessed world I live in. I get to go see doctors who will help me. We see a disease that would have killed countless millions 100 years ago and we fight it. There seems to be an “expectation of perfection” in society these days, from all sides. All of us are fallible and yet sides are drawn? Like it or not, we are not divided. My body is made from the same earth/cosmos born material as everyone elses. We all share this.
We all share the same moon. We are all part of the same river. The water in our bodies once supported fish in a great ocean.
Like it or not, we are all one.

Cover Photo; “Blue Forest Starlings” – Available Print:

Studio Dumping:
After years of exhibitions, it’s time to clear out the studio. These prints are poster mounted to keep costs down to move them out of the studio. Drop me a line if interested.

Red Sky Falling

The incidence of the angle to the sun
Relative to the distance
The minor variance
Affecting the whole of our world

Glancing at Venus
Conversing with the moon
Behind the cloud
The red of sun
Splashed for ambience

We’re entering
The dark sector
Of revolution and rotation
A cosmic wonder

My thought
“Days are getting shorter”
Is an insult
To the reality of this grandeur

I’ve been so busy with “stuff” and have had few opportunities to create images. My heart fell when I witnessed such a beautiful sight last night. The moon and Venus (or Mercury?) claiming a stupendous “good night” to the day’s end. I could only appreciate it in passing. Responsibilities. Soon the blackbirds will return to the lake in their murmurations. I must make time for this.

©2021 Mark Steven Wade – Available Prints

Red Sky Closing

Small Obsession

If not for the sake of the journey
There is little to be found in the exercise
Of expanding the mind artistically

What would be most difficult
Becomes a perceived mountain to climb

And when it becomes apparent 
That perfection is a lie
We search for the next mountain to climb

What will we find next?

Are muses real?  They haunt, taunt and flaunt. Revealing my weaknesses like a storefront mannequin.
I don’t believe anything I just wrote. Do I?