Go to Sleep, Darlings... “I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields It covers them snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, Go to Sleep, Darlings, till the summer comes again.” Lewis Carroll
I'm haunted and bewitched by the beautiful celestial image I witnessed with my family on April 8th, 2024, of the solar eclipse. I find myself painting white suns these days. Even after bringing an unwanted hitchhiker home from the event, the tick : ) He, as well, was curious and wanted to see. I suppose he had an excellent place to watch from : )
I always like to change things in my paintings as I paint and return to them often. Looking at the painting in a different light of day helps me see things I might have missed the day before. I wasn't sure about leaving the trunks without their leaves needles. When I finally decided to add the needles to the trees, I was happy I did.
A pine stand in the woods is always fragrant and delightful.
LOVELY ARE THE WOODS IN SPRING ~ THE HIDEOUT
One month is past, another is begun,
Since merry bells rang out the dying year,
And buds of rarest green began to peer,
As if impatient for a warmer sun;
And though the distant hills are bleak and dun,
The virgin snowdrop, like a lambent fire,
Pierces the cold earth with it's green-streaked spire
And in dark woods, the wandering little one
May find a primrose. Hartley Coleridge
I believe I'm done.
★★★★SALEM ★★★★ 2023
Handmade Original
Measures 10 x 8
Material : Acrylic Painting
Signed and Dated
~Artist retains copyright ownership and all reproduction rights to the artwork.
©AnnabelleandM
I couldn't sleep but I remembered my dream... Salem returned.
Here is a spooky cute poem by
Ian Serraillier,
"Ian Serraillier was an English novelist and poet. He retold legends from England, Greece and Rome and was best known for his children's books, especially The Silver Sword, a wartime adventure story that the BBC adapted for television in 1957 and again in 1971." ~ Wikipedia
‘The Visitor’, by Ian Serraillier
A crumbling churchyard, the sea, and the moon; The waves had gouged out grave and bone;
A man was walking, late and alone...
He saw a skeleton on the ground; A ring on a bony finger he found.
He ran home to his wife and gave her the ring. “Oh, where did you get it?” He said not a thing.
“It’s the loveliest ring in the world,” she said,
As it glowed on her finger. They slipped off to bed.
At midnight they woke. In the dark outside, “Give me my ring!” a chill voice cried.
“What was that, William? What did it say?” “Don’t’ worry, my dear. It’ll soon go away.”
“I’m coming!” A skeleton opened the door. “Give me my ring!” It was crossing the floor.
“What was that, William? What did it say?” “Don’t’ worry, my dear. It’ll soon go away.”
“I’m reaching you now! I’m climbing the bed.” The wife pulled the sheet right over her head.
It was torn from her grasp and tossed in the air: “I’ll drag you out of bed by the hair!”
“What was that, William? What did it say?”
“Throw the ring through the window! THROW IT AWAY!”
She threw it. The skeleton leapt from the sill, Scooped up the ring and clattered downhill, Fainter... and fainter... Then all was still.
★★★★Salem was one of our rescues, a very special cat who had a sixth sense I'm sure.★★★★
ORIGINAL PAINTING ON SALE HERE:
A Ghost's garden at midnight: unkept, purposely, for a garden planted by human, supernatural, the birds and the bees was the best garden to have. Its wild beauty was unmatched by any other properly maintained garden specimen. Florence loved it that way, and so did his visitors who came.
On hot summer nights, Florence's favorite thing to do was to stroll barefoot in the garden and breathe in the flower's sweet perfume. Every once in a while, clover magically appears between his toes. Florence was amused by how the clover always wanted to dress his feet.
Well, I’ve wrestled with reality for 35 years, Doctor, and I’m happy to state I finally won out over it.
I am a romantic for ghost stories.
A perfect stormy night for a good sleep, the old ghost thought.
It poured and rained, such a sweet sleep filled with dreams of his earthly life and memories. Stormy, stormy, stormy weather was his favorite weather.
And then, the sounds of the thundering storm were interrupted by the breaking of glass. Ghost got out of bed and went downstairs to investigate who had disturbed his sleep: a baby owl; perched on the broken window pane. Maggie and Bat were wondering why he was there.
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The Road So Far ... WIP oil painting ... still some details to add.
SIDNEY POITIER WAS BORN ON AN ISLAND TUCKED FAR AWAY IN THE BLUE WATERS OF THE CARIBBEAN SEA. CAT ISLAND IN THE BAHAMAS WAS HIS HOME. WHAT A MAGICAL PLACE IT MUST HAVE BEEN. IT WAS HERE ON THE TINY ISLAND HE WAS TAUGHT BY HIS PARENTS THE VALUES AND MORALS TO KEEP CLOSE TO HIS HEART ON HIS LIFE'S JOURNEY.
"IN THE KIND OF PLACE I GREW UP, RECALLS POITIER, "WHAT'S COMING AT YOU IS THE SOUND OF THE SEA AND THE SMELL OF THE WIND AND MOMMA'S VOICE AND THE VOICE OF YOUR DAD AND THE CRAZINESS OF YOUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS ... AND THAT'S IT"
I READ "THE MEASURE OF A MAN" BY SIDNEY POITIER, HIS SPIRITUAL AUTOBIOGRAPHY, AND FELL IN LOVE WITH HIM ALL OVER AGAIN.
I HIGHLY RECOMMEND THIS BEAUTIFUL BOOK!♥️
THEN, JUST RECENTLY, I WATCHED OPRAH WINFREY'S DOCUMENTARY ON HIM, "SIDNEY". NATURALLY, I WAS LEFT THINKING OF HIM AND CAT ISLAND AND INSPIRED.
BAT THIS MORNING LOL
I PAINTED BAT, OUR BLACK CAT RESCUE WEIGHED A MERE .8 OF A POUND WHEN HE CAME TO US AND HAD LITTLE CHANCE OF SURVIVING, BUT HE WAS DETERMINED TO LIVE. HE WILL BE 6 YEARS OLD THIS OCTOBER 27TH. I DECIDED TO PAINT HIM IN MY REVIVED PAINTING OF "GHOSTS IN THE MOONLIGHT". WHAT BETTER PLACE FOR A CAT TO LIVE THAN ON CAT ISLAND IN THE BAHAMAS.
MIXED MEDIA OIL PAINTING ON WOOD
MOONSTRUCK ON CAT ISLAND 2022 ANNABELLE ...I FORGOT TO SIGN IT, LOL
THANK YOU SIR♥️
HAPPY CATURDAY FROM CAT ISLAND 🐾🐾🐾🐾🐈⬛
INSTAGRAM POST WITH SOUNDTRACK FROM PRACTICAL MAGIC - ALAN SILVESTRI
Happy am I when I slip into bed-
I dream of a pastoral place,
A country escape,
And find heaven on earth
"MAPLE SPIRIT "
