Give me your tired and weary art companions
Give to me your empty canvas crying out for media
Pens which have never seen paper
Brushes thirsting for colour and chalk long abandoned for charcoal.
Give to me the tired potters wheel and paintings that never came to be.
Left to dry like leaves in the sun so to is the oil of an old painter’s pallet.
Give them to me,
Frail and frazzled brushes, sponges bruised with Indian ink,
Cloth scrunched in cupboards, dishes cracked, left and forgotten beneath the sink of your shops.
Give to me your crooked, rusted knives longing to be caressed one more time, just one more time.
Needing, requiring like breath, like shelter, like life itself to be drawn across a world of acrylics once more, just once more.
Give them to me.
Copyright 2008 © F. Magdalene @ Sundrip Journals
All rights reserved
I crave the simple image
The minimalist’s view painted on my inner most eye.
A soft pallet stroking my grieved and sickly soul
With it’s never too little, never too much easy flow of grace
Inviting me to rest my head
And forget.
I crave you.
I crave flowing pastures that meet soft blue horizons.
Never worried they are of
Thunder, threats and lightening storms raining despair upon settled ground.
No rose petals falling from skinny hopeless stalks or
Once hearty trees giving in to driving rain.
No, I crave a bloom coming forth from freshly sprouted earth and
Sun rays that compliment her efforts.
I crave this, this elegance, this simplicity, this conflict free existence.
Today I ask you not to offer up hurried flashes and trampling thoughts one over the other.
Don’t take me down paths to the world that once held me captive.
Today I ask for orange to make peace with yellow and not war across the page
Spilling on red, assaulting blue and running head first into black.
Not today, today I crave simplicity.
I need something simple, something elegant
As my mind is weary, saddled with burden, near to fail and never phoenix.
So I beg for rest, for reprieve, for mercy.
Show me no images of the war I fought and lost
Remind me not of times I stood dressed as a soldier
In tiny patent leather shoes and a frilly little dress
Beside my commander, my chief, my enemy.
I ask you
I beg of you
Show me no more sorrow
Show me no more pain.
Today I need simplicity.
Today I must have peace.
Elegance and Peace by F. Magdalene
written Wednesday, January 30, 2008, 9:33 pm
I wish to rise from ruins.
Gather broken pieces,
Shards and shreds long cast off as useless
And create one form worth standing for.
I will rise from rubble
For one great stand
One grand shine.
In my true essence
I wish to rise unscathed by imagery and voices
That encourage the lying down of hope.
Poem Title: The Essence of Me
Art Title: Rising Sun
Art by: F. Magdalene
Rising Sun comes in several print forms as well as framed on Redbubble and via PayPal. Contact me for details.
Sundrip Art – Art for life.
Color, Texture, Light and Sentiment
You may link to Sundrip Journal entries but without written consent you may not duplicate nor copy/paste any content written or created by the author of Sundrip Journals.
Images Copyright 2007 © Sundrip Journals All rights reserved.
southwest
No Longer A Stray
One day she’ll be more than just a stray,
She’ll hang the moon,
Swing from the rainbow
And play marbles with the stars and planets.
One day she’ll pounce and leap,
With a belly full of sweetness she’ll slumber and sleep
No boxes or concrete beneath her but in a bed of her own in a place she calls home.
Poem Title: No Longer A Stray (for the kitten on my doorstep)
Art Title: A Kitten’s Rainbow Ascent
Art by: F. Magdalene
Wednesday, July 25, 2007-5:01AM EST
As I painted this I thought about all that could go wrong tomorrow, all that I could toss for a bit of carnal needs. And I’m not sure that it’s worth the sacrifice but it doesn’t mean I won’t go ahead and take the risk.
This piece here symbolizes how I plead to myself for mercy and saving from myself. Every brick is a different colour (ideas, dreams, struggles), every stone a jagged edge (trust nothing, assume no one is safe). I stumble. Would I even know solid ground if it were to walk upon it? Would I know how to lift my feet one in front of the other if I were not on this chosen path of ruin?
Change is difficult even when it’s for the good but when you don’t feel any good inside positive change feels almost impossible. So I walk the same walk, stumble over the same stones and ask myself the same questions. Why aren’t I happy?
See video presentation for details, texture and color of Sacrifices here.
This painting is available on Redbubble in various print sizes.
Art by F. Magdalene
