Waiting for the Ship to Come In

There’s an old family photo circa 1929 or so that I used to love looking at when I was growing up–family members waiting at the dock for a ship to come in.

I found myself thinking about the photo a lot in recent months and after reaching out to my cousin was able to see the photo again after many years. The photo still captivates me. In some ways more than ever.

The photo became inspiration for a new piece of artwork made in procreate on my iPad.

One never knows where inspiration will come from!

Available as a card on Zazzle

Nestled

Trees and houses make frequent appearances in my artwork. I especially find doors and windows showing up when I least expect.

I like to think of them as openings and welcomings. They’re comforting and one of the things I love most about artmaking.

Larger Than Life

So much is larger than life.

The expression and metaphor, “Larger than life” came to me today as I was working on this painting.

I know a lot of things can feel, and are—larger than life. In this case, I can’t say that I know or exactly connect with WHAT is larger than life here in this moment. 

But, just to say—so much is larger than life, every day.
And, in so many ways. 

Put expression in your eyes

“Show some emotion
Put expression in your eyes
Light up if you’re feeling happy
But if it’s bad then let those tears roll down”
~Joan Armatrading

A walk on the first day of spring
bubbling in memories
excited over coming out of the pandemic
feeling loads of emotions
and the sweet reminder of Joan Armatrading to “put expression in your eyes.”

I Heard It In the Wind Last Night

It seems like many dim years ago
Since I heard that face to face
Though tonight I can feel you here

I heard it in the wind last night
It sounded like applause
Did you get a round resounding for you
Way up here
It seems like many dim years ago
Since I heard that face to face
Though tonight I can feel you here


Painting inspired on a recent walk (by a captivating tree trunk) and lyrics by Joni Mitchell, For the Roses.

Space Oddity

For here
Am I sitting in a tin can
Far above the world

Minutes after finishing this painting I was perplexed. What is it?

Hours later, I still wondered what it had been doing floating around in my head. My hand. My brush strokes.

Then as if someone had just selected a song on an old jukebox, the lyrics to David Bowie’s song, Space Oddity started to fill my head.

I’ve got to admit, it’s a bit odd. And, a little amusing.


Ground Control to Major Tom
Ground Control to Major Tom
Take your protein pills and put your helmet on
Ground Control to Major Tom (ten, nine, eight, seven, six)
Commencing countdown, engines on (five, four, three)
Check ignition and may God’s love be with you (two, one, liftoff)

This is Ground Control to Major Tom
You’ve really made the grade
And the papers want to know whose shirts you wear
Now it’s time to leave the capsule if you dare
“This is Major Tom to Ground Control
I’m stepping through the door
And I’m floating in a most peculiar way
And the stars look very different today
For here
Am I sitting in a tin can
Far above the world
Planet Earth is blue
And there’s nothing I can do

Though I’m past one hundred thousand miles
I’m feeling very still
And I think my spaceship knows which way to go
Tell my wife I love her very much she knows
Ground Control to Major Tom
Your circuit’s dead, there’s something wrong
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you “Here am I floating ’round my tin can
Far above the moon
Planet Earth is blue
And there’s nothing I can do

Teetering on the Edge

Some days I just have to pick up the pencil, and welcome whatever wants to come out.

No doubt, some days are better than others. What started out as a gray day internally (despite the sunshine and chirping birds outside my window) slowly has emerged more colorful. More hopeful.

I don’t discredit the power of artmaking to help turn things around. Some days I just have to pick up the pencil, and welcome whatever wants to come out.

When You Live Vicariously

I was most definitely, uninspired and lethargic. Sleepy, in fact. Trying desperately to avoid a mid-afternoon nap.

A friend was house-sitting near a beach a few weeks ago. It was winter. (It still is.)

I’d been in my house for days. If I’d been lucky, I’d been out for a grocery run or two. Or for a quick breeze through express browsing at the library where I could scoop up a few books in 15 minutes or less.

My friend sent photos from walks on the beach. I was always in my enclosed porch with the heat cranked high.

She sent photos with envious views. I was sitting in the same spot in the middle of my couch that looks out at a couple of neighboring houses and a leaning telephone pole.

She was obviously inspired and energized. I was most definitely, uninspired and lethargic. Sleepy, in fact. Trying desperately to avoid a mid-afternoon nap.

When her latest image arrived one morning showing a 6:30 a.m. walk for sunrise on the beach, I was still sitting in that same spot on the couch.

Finally, I turned the radio onto 99.5 FM, WCRB where they play classical music all day. I heard the comforting, friendly voice of DJ Laura Carlo. She played some beautiful piece, one after another.

I reached for my iPad.

I looked long and hard at that sunrise on the beach. And for an hour or two, I lived vicariously.