Landfall Abstract Ocean Scene

This entry shows art two art pieces with a purpose. Rise, fall if I must. Stand to meet the challenge. What’s the challenge? I’ve got to get a hold of my stinking thinking. I have to change my outlook one single color at a time if necessary. While writing I felt a sense of urgency and desperation. I could all but see myself at a door grabbing the handle and pulling it, ripping at.

Lets talk more about the art at the root of these emotions.

Landfall

Landfall

Creating non objective abstract art started with a self challenge in June of 2014. I really wanted to create some of the beautiful art I was seeing, but it didn’t think I had it in me to do that type of art. When I first challenged myself I said I’d do 10 paintings. I wasn’t looking forward to it because it was as if I had no idea where to start, let alone know how to finish.

Though I’m still learning, I can say I have left behind the anxiety. I enjoy it creating non-objective abstract art. I find it soothing to create and I actually feel I know when to start. As a matter of fact I start non-objective abstract such as “Landfall” the same way I begin other art, with a single stroke.

I don’t think too hard and I sure don’t plan ahead. When it comes to art, if I plan ahead then I’m planning for a disaster. I start art with one single stroke and go from there. I paint from the hip…..not literally because that would be uncomfortable. My next challenge with abstracts is to paint them larger.  Continue reading “Landfall Abstract Ocean Scene”

The Master of My Ghosts

There’s an old, half blind dog lying on the porch. That old dog is me.
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His daytime howl is common, almost a fixture in his home. He growls at shadows and charges falling, dry leaves as though they were a personal attack on himself and the dilapidated house he protects.

He can hardly see. He doesn’t hear clearly or process like others. This old dog with half an ear and legs born lame, feels so far removed from a living thing that even the softest touch can in an instant turn from intimacy to biting distrust.

Continue reading “The Master of My Ghosts”