We stay close
Grains of sand
On a lonely beach
It drives us mad
To lash out
As rattler’s broods
The engine of progress
Its constant drone
Of a gentle brook
And the rustling
Of deer moving
Of such lovely consciousness
Of unknown places
To be discovered
Diptych – (2) 12″x12″ oils on canvas
I’m sure there are places where the drone of freeways are non-existent.
Where the wind passing through the trees is an event.
Unsettled was my body
Like dust illuminated
Through window’s light
Melded with this daily ritual
When blood fills the sky
And a sudden hush
Closes every mouth
All of us
To the moment’s
“Sunset on Red” – 12″x12″ Oils on canvas
Everything was falling
Nothing hit the ground
It all floated gently
Despite gravity crashing the party
The pool has a leak
But it never empties
If I could just find the ladder
At least then,
I’d discover the bottom
Water soluble oils on canvas 12″x12″
Not sure what it means…sometimes I have no control over what happens next with the paint.
Interesting how we try to tame everything.
The ocean, with its wildness pushes against everything we hold as “our own” with total disregard. She doesn’t care about our feelings or our inadequacies. She will eat you up and spit you out. Sometimes, she won’t spit you out.
When we were kids, we would rent “surfrider” inflatables and let her throw us at the beach. We’d walk out the door by nine and by 10:30 we’d be slammin’ the sand. For a couple of bucks, you’d get a bus ride, a soda, a piece of pizza and several hours of end-over-end near-death misses. It was a good thing for mom to get all that energy out of the house for most of the day.
That’s the ocean I like. The one with dolphins that hit the surf, or tiger sharks that’ll “take your leg off”. The one that reminds us what it means to be alive….to live with mortal uncertainty. We tested her, and after a few times in the “washing machine” we decided it’s time to head home….stronger, browner, every orifice full of sand.
Yet for some reason, this is what I think of to paint? A safe quiet harbor?
Who is the one who has been tamed?
20×16 Oils on canvas board
I have only ventured onto the open ocean a few times in my lifetime. Even a couple of days of five foot swells will give you a respect for the sailor that braves a liquid life.
…or maybe it was sunrise.. I don’t remember
but the woods covered me in near silence
only the sounds of air moving between trees
I could have been a fish off the California coast
In the quiet kelp forest with only the sound
Of water moving toward the shoreline
As it is
I am just human
oils on canvas – 36″x36″