This is the mat background to the oval painting I'm presently working on. As usual, Maggie loves to art with
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
Tuesday, April 16, 2019
Sunday, April 14, 2019
THE OWL, THE CAT, AND THE HARE or WHO LIKES THE NIGHT? 🦉🐈 🐇
And the Moon and Stars Float, ever so Quiet, on Candy Floss Clouds 🌚✨☁️
There is not enough time in a day to do what you truly want to do. I like to think I started this painting in February but likely it was much earlier, can't remember. More importantly, it's finally done.
And now is a good moment for me to become truly mindful, learn the art of appreciating life at the moment ... "mindfulness is recognizing how extraordinarily special every moment of the present already is.”
Like The Owl, The Cat, And The Hare have learned to see, hear and feel in their heart the beauty in the quiet of the full moon night.
There is not enough time in a day to do what you truly want to do. I like to think I started this painting in February but likely it was much earlier, can't remember. More importantly, it's finally done.
And now is a good moment for me to become truly mindful, learn the art of appreciating life at the moment ... "mindfulness is recognizing how extraordinarily special every moment of the present already is.”
Like The Owl, The Cat, And The Hare have learned to see, hear and feel in their heart the beauty in the quiet of the full moon night.
Wednesday, April 3, 2019
Saturday, March 30, 2019
" THE WINDOW INTO THE UNSEEN IS OPENED IN WAKING HOURS " 🎨🖌🖼
Painting Magic?
Waking from my sleep, the dreams of the night filled my head with lovely, mysterious, secret places to escape to and so I thought I would try to paint some magic.
The trials and tribulations that accompany a wip painting are many, at least for me. I am just an amateur painter who loves art, doesn't and can't produce artwork in minutes or hours and even if I could, I'm too fussy and like to work on the little things that I believe make the painting special.
The trials and tribulations that accompany a wip painting are many, at least for me. I am just an amateur painter who loves art, doesn't and can't produce artwork in minutes or hours and even if I could, I'm too fussy and like to work on the little things that I believe make the painting special.
This painting has been lingering around for some time now and with everything else that has happened in life in recent weeks, it has been left behind. So this morning I returned to it, didn't like the trees, cat, cottage, cypress, etc and made some changes. Still far from finished but I like the direction it's taking. The cat will return, only a little different.
Friday, March 29, 2019
Muse - Unintended
You could be my unintended
Choice to live my life extended
You could be the one I'll always love
You could be the one who listens
To my deepest inquisitions
You could be the one I'll always love
I'll be there as soon as I can
But I'm busy mending broken
Pieces of the life I had before
First there was the one who challenged
All my dreams and all my balance
She could never be as good as you
You could be my unintended
Choice to live my life extended
You should be the one I'll always love
I'll be there as soon as I can
But I'm busy mending broken
Pieces of the life I had before
I'll be there as soon as I can
But I'm busy mending broken
Pieces of the life I had before
Before you
Have fun guys. Muse & Montreal ❤️
Wednesday, March 27, 2019
Our Birth is but a Sleep and a Forgetting:
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
The soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar.
Creatures of the night, in their nocturnal habit they dance on the threads of the gleaming moon.
Emrick, happy to have finally arrived at his journey's end sits by the river and watches the aerial ballet. In the starry, almost scary heavenly world above, Emrick catches a glimpse of another world, one he might know.
I loved painting on this 6 x 6 canvas. I was inspired by Old Quebec paintings for this landscape and gave it more of a surreal, magical fairytale Victorian Gothic style.
Hubby named the cat, Emrick, a name from Wales meaning immortal, from that a story materialized. I will eventually make some prints to sell this artwork. I like how it turned out.
The soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar.
~ “Intimations of Immortality”
1804 William Wordsworth
Creatures of the night, in their nocturnal habit they dance on the threads of the gleaming moon.
Emrick, happy to have finally arrived at his journey's end sits by the river and watches the aerial ballet. In the starry, almost scary heavenly world above, Emrick catches a glimpse of another world, one he might know.
I loved painting on this 6 x 6 canvas. I was inspired by Old Quebec paintings for this landscape and gave it more of a surreal, magical fairytale Victorian Gothic style.
Hubby named the cat, Emrick, a name from Wales meaning immortal, from that a story materialized. I will eventually make some prints to sell this artwork. I like how it turned out.
Monday, March 25, 2019
EMRICK BAT 🖼🎨
EMRICK BAT
OOO...Emrick Bat sits and watches the spooky night in Old Quebec; his long journey has finally come to an end and the scenery in front of him promises to be everything but boring.
I'm a Pisces and my sign is a pair of fish swimming in opposite directions. And being a Pisces, I always seem to go two ways at once, like my 2 wip paintings : ) I look forward to completing both in the next week. This one with Emrick (the name means immortal ) Bat, is a 6 x 6 canvas and I will be painting it in inks.
Friday, March 22, 2019
Ghostly Sound by GhostTales
Ghostly Sound by GhostTales
There's a place far and away, secluded, mysterious and haunting by the sea. In the luminous light of the moon, the four coves scintillate and resound the songs of the sea or perhaps the voices of lost ghosts whose melodies have drifted in.
There's a place far and away, secluded, mysterious and haunting by the sea. In the luminous light of the moon, the four coves scintillate and resound the songs of the sea or perhaps the voices of lost ghosts whose melodies have drifted in.
Wednesday, March 20, 2019
Home is Where The Fireflies Dance ☘️☘️☘️🏡 Spring Equinox 2019
Always love to read what churches write on their boards and yesterday while driving in the town of Kemptville I saw this at Saint James Anglican church.
Welcome Back, Spring! We've missed you!
Home is Where the Fireflies Dance
Welcome Back, Spring! We've missed you!
Home is Where the Fireflies Dance
Sunday, March 17, 2019
Sunday, March 10, 2019
A MEASURE IN TIME ❤️
A MEASURE IN TIME
“As we get along in years, increasingly the thought arises; when will all this end?”
We don't know. Each day given to us is a gift, a gift to never forget to use well. Wasted days cannot be allowed in.
This morning I woke up to a snowy landscape, no sun to see like yesterday's, but the day was bright and living and it is my birthday. I wasn't going to write about it but that quickly changed when I received a treasured gift from my hubby.
I could have easily guessed his gift since being a difficult person to buy for, the typical card I receive as a birthday gift always contains money, but the true treasure was not the toonies and 100 dollar bills that filled the box, it was something else, it was a deeply buried story, a story about life.
Vaguely, I remembered a similar story Stan shared with me years ago and I knew where he got the idea for the memorable birthday gift he gave to me this morning; genius, I say. Love when he does these kinds of things, so romantic, I think.
Back in the day when Stan worked at Domtar a fellow co-worker had shared with him his analogy on life as they sat at a picnic table close enough to hear the sound of the Chaudiere Falls rushing into the Ottawa river, drowning the noise of the paper machines inside the mill. Serge Robitaille told Stan what made his decision to call it quits and retire. “He pulled out his pipe fitter's measuring tape and holding it to a number that marked his years gone by he said in a French accent, “I have everything, maybe that is what I have left, pointing to the remaining tape measure.” Stan never forgot the story nor did I and you then look at your own life a little bit different.
So, Stan's story today is not conveyed through a measuring tape but through money. He gave me 62 toonies inside a treasure chest, each toonie signifying a year of my life. The golden nugget roll containing 13 toonies is to use as a measure in time. For the next 13 years, (just happens to be my lucky number ), I will take a toonie on my birthday and buy myself a Tim Horton's coffee. If we are both here in 13 years, Stan will simply refill the Treasure Chest for another 13, maybe? And if one of us is gone before the 13 years then the other will continue in their honor remembering the life we shared. For every year, the goal is to do what your heart desires, dream the dreams you want to dream and make them happen.
Those 13 coins, each will symbolize a year to live by in the best imaginable way possible.
And now I leave you with this to reflect upon...
The Dream of Life - Alan Watts
So then… Let’s suppose that you were able, every night, to dream any dream you wanted to dream. And you could, for example, have the power within one night to dream 75 years of time. Or any length of time you wanted to have. And you would, naturally, as you began on this adventure of dreams, fulfill all your wishes. You would have every kind of pleasure. And after several nights of seventy-five years of total pleasure each you would say, “Well, that was pretty great! But now let’s have a surprise.” “Let’s have a dream which isn’t under control. Where something is going to happen to me but I don’t know what it’s going to be.” And you would dig that, and come out of that and say, “Wow, that was a close shave, wasn’t it?” Then you would get more and more adventurous. And you would make further and further gambles as to what you would dream. And finally, you would dream where you are now.
p.s. Thanks, Stan ❤️
A Measure In Time ~ Part 2
A Souvenir of my 62ndbirthday, a poem he wrote for me as part of the gift I received on Sunday. He doesn't think real men buy flowers but I think he is trying very hard to be romantic, which I appreciate and love. Thanks, Stan....cute
Analogy of Life
Stan
“As we get along in years, increasingly the thought arises; when will all this end?”
We don't know. Each day given to us is a gift, a gift to never forget to use well. Wasted days cannot be allowed in.
This morning I woke up to a snowy landscape, no sun to see like yesterday's, but the day was bright and living and it is my birthday. I wasn't going to write about it but that quickly changed when I received a treasured gift from my hubby.
I could have easily guessed his gift since being a difficult person to buy for, the typical card I receive as a birthday gift always contains money, but the true treasure was not the toonies and 100 dollar bills that filled the box, it was something else, it was a deeply buried story, a story about life.
Vaguely, I remembered a similar story Stan shared with me years ago and I knew where he got the idea for the memorable birthday gift he gave to me this morning; genius, I say. Love when he does these kinds of things, so romantic, I think.
Back in the day when Stan worked at Domtar a fellow co-worker had shared with him his analogy on life as they sat at a picnic table close enough to hear the sound of the Chaudiere Falls rushing into the Ottawa river, drowning the noise of the paper machines inside the mill. Serge Robitaille told Stan what made his decision to call it quits and retire. “He pulled out his pipe fitter's measuring tape and holding it to a number that marked his years gone by he said in a French accent, “I have everything, maybe that is what I have left, pointing to the remaining tape measure.” Stan never forgot the story nor did I and you then look at your own life a little bit different.
So, Stan's story today is not conveyed through a measuring tape but through money. He gave me 62 toonies inside a treasure chest, each toonie signifying a year of my life. The golden nugget roll containing 13 toonies is to use as a measure in time. For the next 13 years, (just happens to be my lucky number ), I will take a toonie on my birthday and buy myself a Tim Horton's coffee. If we are both here in 13 years, Stan will simply refill the Treasure Chest for another 13, maybe? And if one of us is gone before the 13 years then the other will continue in their honor remembering the life we shared. For every year, the goal is to do what your heart desires, dream the dreams you want to dream and make them happen.
Those 13 coins, each will symbolize a year to live by in the best imaginable way possible.
And now I leave you with this to reflect upon...
The Dream of Life - Alan Watts
So then… Let’s suppose that you were able, every night, to dream any dream you wanted to dream. And you could, for example, have the power within one night to dream 75 years of time. Or any length of time you wanted to have. And you would, naturally, as you began on this adventure of dreams, fulfill all your wishes. You would have every kind of pleasure. And after several nights of seventy-five years of total pleasure each you would say, “Well, that was pretty great! But now let’s have a surprise.” “Let’s have a dream which isn’t under control. Where something is going to happen to me but I don’t know what it’s going to be.” And you would dig that, and come out of that and say, “Wow, that was a close shave, wasn’t it?” Then you would get more and more adventurous. And you would make further and further gambles as to what you would dream. And finally, you would dream where you are now.
p.s. Thanks, Stan ❤️
A Measure In Time ~ Part 2
A Souvenir of my 62ndbirthday, a poem he wrote for me as part of the gift I received on Sunday. He doesn't think real men buy flowers but I think he is trying very hard to be romantic, which I appreciate and love. Thanks, Stan....cute
It happened so many years ago
Back at the paper mill
Where at a picnic table
Serge brought me through the drill
He took his tattered tape measure
From his worn and aging belt
Pulled out some tape onto the ground
And told me how he felt
He pinched it off at fifty-five
And stated “I got dat”
Then pulled out another foot or so
For the remaining life, he’d have
The Frenchman made a lot of sense
In dealing with his strife
As he gave me his own version
Of his analogy of life
Now many decades later
His words all still ring true
For March tenth, two thousand nineteen
Annabelle turned sixty-two
We gathered up some toonies
Sixty-two to be exact
Placed them in a treasure chest
But something else had lacked
Emma added thirteen more
To make it seventy-five
So Annabelle could compare what’s left
And thank god to be alive
I made a pact with Annabelle
A planned out rendezvous
To add another twenty-five
In two thousand thirty-two
Happy Birthday Anna
Back at the paper mill
Where at a picnic table
Serge brought me through the drill
He took his tattered tape measure
From his worn and aging belt
Pulled out some tape onto the ground
And told me how he felt
He pinched it off at fifty-five
And stated “I got dat”
Then pulled out another foot or so
For the remaining life, he’d have
The Frenchman made a lot of sense
In dealing with his strife
As he gave me his own version
Of his analogy of life
Now many decades later
His words all still ring true
For March tenth, two thousand nineteen
Annabelle turned sixty-two
We gathered up some toonies
Sixty-two to be exact
Placed them in a treasure chest
But something else had lacked
Emma added thirteen more
To make it seventy-five
So Annabelle could compare what’s left
And thank god to be alive
I made a pact with Annabelle
A planned out rendezvous
To add another twenty-five
In two thousand thirty-two
Happy Birthday Anna
Stan
Thursday, March 7, 2019
“What I like about photographs is that they capture a moment that's gone forever, impossible to reproduce.” ~ Karl Lagerfeld
These are the memories we will never let go. It seems like it was just yesterday we were treasure hunting with Grace. We discovered Geocaching and M and I went on some wonderful outdoor adventures around our region like Merrickville and Kemptville searching for the secretly hidden geocaches. Grace helped us find them all. Although there are mixed views on the game and I understand the dangers associated with it, we still love playing the game. The clues, the puzzles, the mystery and stories, the thrill of the adventure of finding the cache in the most unexpected secret location are all part of the fun of geocaching and besides that its a wonderful excuse to take a walk in nature, breathe in the fresh air and bring your dog out for a walk, sadly we will miss having Grace on our next hunts.
“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal***From an Irish Headstone” Richard Puz
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