Have been working off and on on a small painting. It has had many iterations, but now it seems just about time to finally move on - call it done enough. Have completed other paintings in the meantime, this one just never seemed right. Kept realizing basic things were wrong, and surely still are. But you know, it is an amazing thing to paint, hard to describe but might say there is a heightened sensibility and some kind of feedback loop gets established. When you get close to right, forever after, when you see what you've done, something strong comes back. Ha - even if no one else sees it.
Saturday, December 5, 2020
Twenty Years
Tuesday, May 12, 2020
Time And Space
As Daddy-o used to recite:
Time waits for no man,
it passes you by,
it rolls on forever,
like the clouds in the sky.
(by who?)
"Death is a strangely irreconcilable moment (no matter if we are together to the end or not) …we rationalize and carry on but the heart still looks for the love lost."
and
Shakespeare’s Tempest…
Prospero:
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
The Tempest Act 4, scene 1, 148–158
Time waits for no man,
it passes you by,
it rolls on forever,
like the clouds in the sky.
(by who?)
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| by Avey Shrum |
And in an email from a dear friend:
and
Shakespeare’s Tempest…
Prospero:
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
The Tempest Act 4, scene 1, 148–158
Saturday, March 28, 2020
Old Friend Avey and Staying Home
Time these days speeds by so fast. Changes happen, friends get sick or pass on, there are sad feelings. The pandemic is not helping the joy factor and have to say am somewhat worried, but so far am keeping the spirits high. No Travel plans for now, but beginning to have visions of being on the road somewhere, maybe New Mexico or Rome or a beautiful beach. But for now staying home is not that bad, there are many blessings to count.
Wisteria blooming here and filling the air with scent. And just noticed the first scent of honeysuckle. Also in a week will have confederate jasmine blooming.
Wisteria blooming here and filling the air with scent. And just noticed the first scent of honeysuckle. Also in a week will have confederate jasmine blooming.
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