"Office of the Future"
Acrylic on Canvas, 18" x 24"
.
Click on the Image for a Larger View
.
Showing posts with label Trees. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Trees. Show all posts
December 25, 2018
May 12, 2015
January 14, 2015
January 10, 2015
December 31, 2014
November 22, 2014
October 4, 2014
August 10, 2014
June 25, 2014
May 9, 2014
May 6, 2014
May 2, 2014
My good friend, Mr. Jerry Newman, an expert hobby carpenter, makes a precision box-frame for one of my paintings, which I will be displaying at the forthcoming Allentown Art Show in mid-June.
Jerry Newman is the author of this book (link to Amazon.com):
My Secret Life on the McJob
Jerry Newman is the author of this book (link to Amazon.com):
My Secret Life on the McJob
March 9, 2014
November 2, 2013
August 17, 2013
December 30, 2012
September 14, 2012
March 12, 2012
July 19, 2011
"A Secluded Home", Acrylic on Canvas, July 31, 2011.
(Click on the painting for a larger view)
.
A detail view of the house area:
.
Below, a Poem inpired by this painting:
by Priti Aisola (author of novel "See Paris For Me", Penguin, 2010):
--------------------------
A curving path
The trees a green haze in the background,
dense with invite to lose fear of the unknown.
A house basking in its seclusion,
its rust red roofs, sun-embalmed, repose,
hear the breeze’s soft heartbeats, dream
of days that loiter languorous.
A solitary house
that shies away from eyes strange,
looks curious about its inmates,
seeks neither guests nor visitors, content
to gaze at its reflection in the lake.
Where is the worry that
when the reflection vanishes,
memory of sun-wrapped days will go too.
The curving path
skirted by trees and bushes sun-sipping
and grass aglitter with sun-beads.
Two trees upright with canopies wide
caress a sky blue-soothed.
All perfect .
No human cry will slash the silence.
No tremors will rock the repose.
This is just a painted world.
In this painted world peace
is a pretty painted thing.
A world with a choice frame, so
removed from our world of change
and fleeting glimpse of joys and
the passing away of all forms of life.
And yet,
should our gaze rest long enough
on this painting sunny serene,
and should something from there flow into us
unseen, we might just feel the sun-glow,
the golden-drizzle on the cheeks
of our bleak day.
--------------------------
A curving path
The trees a green haze in the background,
dense with invite to lose fear of the unknown.
A house basking in its seclusion,
its rust red roofs, sun-embalmed, repose,
hear the breeze’s soft heartbeats, dream
of days that loiter languorous.
A solitary house
that shies away from eyes strange,
looks curious about its inmates,
seeks neither guests nor visitors, content
to gaze at its reflection in the lake.
Where is the worry that
when the reflection vanishes,
memory of sun-wrapped days will go too.
The curving path
skirted by trees and bushes sun-sipping
and grass aglitter with sun-beads.
Two trees upright with canopies wide
caress a sky blue-soothed.
All perfect .
No human cry will slash the silence.
No tremors will rock the repose.
This is just a painted world.
In this painted world peace
is a pretty painted thing.
A world with a choice frame, so
removed from our world of change
and fleeting glimpse of joys and
the passing away of all forms of life.
And yet,
should our gaze rest long enough
on this painting sunny serene,
and should something from there flow into us
unseen, we might just feel the sun-glow,
the golden-drizzle on the cheeks
of our bleak day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)