Magic Moments-Home

is where the Heart is.IMG_5995 (1024x768).jpg

 

Island Song

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High Tide comes in

Washes over hard rock faces

Lifts tangled seaweed hair

Caressing our thoughts

Breathing life into every

                   crevice of our spirits-

With its ebb-

                     We wait.

 

The surf still poundingIMG_5997 (768x1024)

In our

Hearts

 

 

       for R

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Haiku for Monhegan island 2017

Far below the cliffs

The sea foams teal blue and white

Seals play in the wavesIMG_6006 (1024x768).jpg

 

White gulls ride the wind

Over churning cobalt teal

Vertigo blinds meIMG_5990 (1024x768).jpg

 

Golden rod, Asters

Bend like bright waves on the rock

A sea gull cries outIMG_5987 (768x1024).jpg

  

 Cool wind lifts paper

Artist pauses, looks again

Grey fog breaks like foam

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 Who am i to paint

Such wonders: an ocean vast?

 -Insignificant

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And lost.

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Winter Ilex on Monhegan

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Holly (Angel in the dust)

 

Magic Moments-only don’t blink

Stay aware.

Listen to the frog chorus. Watch the red wing fan his tail and tilt sideways when he sings while the grackle stretches straight forward and lifts both wings and tail. The tree swallows swirl like mini fighter pilots and the buffle head ducks dip and disappear slick as submarines. Above the dirt road the first Mourning cloaks emerge to float softly in the warm April sun. But If You So Much As Dare To Speak…

The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day.
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You’re one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
a cloud come over the sunlit arch,
And wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you’re two months back in the middle of March.
Robert Frost, Two Tramps in Mud Time, 1926                      re-blogged from Hanna’s walk

                                                                                                                 April 2017 | Hanna

(There in Denmark the cherry trees are already out. It will be awhile before that happens here. Next week  we could get a snowstorm. It’s happened before.)

But today was so warm i sketched outside at the Hurley building in short sleeves.

( see blog post  https://litchfieldhillspleinairsketchersandpainters.wordpress.com)

This morning i also sketched and yesterday after church as well. I think that that painting is still in the car so here are a few photos from my Sunday walk. Can you guess where they were taken? Tomorrow JL and i will go up Shady Brook. Even with the drought our corner of the world is full of running water and bird song.

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blueberries in bud.

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This one begs to be painted.

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A soft spot to sit? And i did and sketched the boardwalk and beaver dam beyond. -A nice way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

Till later then

yaitd holly

Magic Moments- adrift

i have now painted the ocean picture “Equilibrium” 6 times and i still am not getting it right. so i shall post this little Requiem to a goldfish-he died today and finish with a poem by Rumi which describes me rather accurately. I’ll squirrel my own writing out of the way. Some day i may toss it out to sea in a glass bottle.

Here is a picture of the little fellow:

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If you do not know me, ask the dark night

She is the witness of my lonely tears and laments

She is the keeper of my secrets.

I have become patient as a mountain, humble like dust.

My sorrows like a fence of thorns surround my garden

but once you go beyond them you will praise

its flowing springs and fragrant roses.

Praise the beloved who blessed the garden with new life.

A peaceful weaver cannot appreciate the art of war

the mind cannot feel the sweetness of the lover’s pain

that sweet pain of melting like a grain of salt

in the sea of love.

But I will not waste my words on tired minds

I only talk to those who are thirsty for the sea.

 

Rumi

Angel in the dust

“Rumi’s little Book of Life”

Translated by

Maryam mafi and Azima Melita Kolin

 

Magic Moments-hidden in the waves

Today I finally attacked this studio with the vacuum cleaner-1st time since sometime last spring. Maybe I’m finding my feet again or just finding a large measure of resolve.

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I am working with more studies of waves and beginning to experiment with the palette knife. I also found this sort-of poem with in myself and choose to share it with you.

Lament

Fate is the hunter that fashions

A fiction we cannot escape.

Caught, forced to choose

We step blinded by blurring translations

Into an irrevocable present

Constructing our souls to an

Outward smile that drowns tears

Within

Fortitude lifts a brush ofIMG_3076 (1024x768).jpg

Emerald green-defines the bay.

Mindset focuses on the way

We climb the path to a destiny,

Our imperfect present

Passing by the ocean empty

We leave our hearts

 To drown

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Angel in the dust

 

 

Holly Hall

170315