Model Painting Class

Painting Models in the April sun.
Students, canvas, paints, lunch.
Composition, color, line, form,
Layering the colors, painterly look.
Results, good paintings  from,
One class in a 4 painting hour day.
Positive model working her magic in her practical way.

On the outside,
Always on the out,
Looking in, through a small dark hole.
Alice through the looking glass only,
not seeing what is there. Always,
the outsider looking elsewhere.
Hard to be part of the group.
Left without word, clueless.
Not knowing what is going on.
On the outside separate and alone.
No one cares about that.....really.
Too many lawyers, not enough chiefs.
 Too many layers, not enough meat....artichoke.
Left out in the cold, without any news, without any word.

Saturday, 3/8/14

Model sessions as a group,
energy, stamina, good health.
For Artist as well as the model.
Hours spent putting paint down
Music, talk, good energy.
So many levels, thick paint, thin paint.
Music, talk, good energy.

Girls

HBO Girls.
20 something girls looking,
For a reason to exist,
Jobs, guys, sex, happiness.
How do they find it?
How did we find it,
Define ourselves,
Thinking back 40 years.

Stupid and naive.
No idea....not an idea.
Had to reinvent self,
Find true self.
What interested?
Who who.
Lived with others,

Worked, played,
Returned to the bowels
of roots time and again,
Looking for.
One true self.
Had extreme roots/
Long and involved.
 Denied much,
Clung tightly.
Present me,
Past me,
Just me.
An Artist, gardener,
community involved
senior.
No one really knows......Me,
Only me,

November 1, 2013.
Wind howling, twisting around, through and over the tall pine trees.
Tall old firs twist, shake, sway with the changes of the wind.
I stepped outside, the cold icy air filled my lungs, touched my face,
 making me glad to be alive. It felt wholesome and pure.
The wind wound its way around me and chilled my skin through a thin blue tee shirt.
I was swept away with the damp chilly night air and the lonesome howl somewhere north.
The cats usually rubbing and winding, raised alert little heads to the sound.
We are all alone, alone, on this cold chilly thrilling night, with the sky overhead and trees reaching up and up.
We look together, listening to the howl, to the lone howl to the north.
The alert little feral cats rub once against my leg longing for a handout on a freezing October night.
Look out cats I say. Don't be a handout to the lone howl to the north.

New Sketchbook.....1/28/14

New sketchbook.
Med-ring fasteners.
Heavy outside cover,
Binding/bending,
Not hurting pages.
Drawing, filling,
Artists, subjects.
Writing, bullshit.
New sketchbook,
1/2 off coupon.

Kinky Boots

January 8, 2014

Kinky boots, all sizes, all genders.
What would we do without them.
Made to take abuse,
They standup straight, or, not.
Kinky boots come in all colors,
Red, brown, yellow, tan, black.
High heels, low heels, flat.

The Blind Date

1/07/14 Tuesday
A day spent painting what one loves is never a bad thing.

THE BLIND DATE

A girl had a blind date once.
Junior prom, private school.
The date, a friend's brother.
He dressed, she dressed, formal and all.
Three couples, sister, date, and 2 others.

A dance, maybe two, a few words.
Neither impressed.
Food served, He, headache first, left.
She escaped to the dorm, hid her humiliation.
Shower, and bed. He walked a mile to his guest house.

Two prior blind dates for school dances.
The boys had been sweet,
Regular, fun guys from the town,
Who were not from rich homes.
Prom boy spoiled, troubled.

She blamed herself.
A short story kept secret for many years.
She understands more now.
She has daughters of her own.
The ups and downs never change.

A brand new year.

Friday, January 3, 2014.

This is a brand new year....
A new fresh clean page....
A pristine start.
To write, to write about
A fresh new attitude,
For a brand new year........

The Zags, Saturday December 28, 2013

Basketball is sometimes painful.
Not just playing but watching.
From the sidelines; watch, .scream
Emotional turmoil, scream.
Injured players hurting, pain.
Come on boys, don't get hurt.
Another guy down, 3 point guy.
Another tall blond tree almost down.
Leave our guys alone I scream
But no one hears this woman.
Old white haired woman on the sidelines.

The Intelligent Date

 THE INTELLIGENT DATE
Once I had a date,
With an intelligent boy.
We went to a play.
A double date.
I did not like to date.
My mother made me go.
Painful shy time.
I hung out with him more times.
Another date one New Years Eve.
Twice I had a date.
His father ran a small-town newspaper.
My cousins once fed him sow-bugs,
In his raisin box.
I did not know him then.
I met him 12 years later.
He dated my friend at boarding school.
A college man who wrote intelligent letters.
We read them together and I smiled.
She did not like his difference.
He became a Vietnam soldier.

45 years later, He writes me:
Dropped in the middle of a killing field.
He didn't die, he knew he was invisible.
He walked without fear...he knew.
It scared me. I wanted to hear more.
He is still an intelligent man.
A different and knowing man.
It is painful and I am shy.
We are both married.
We message online. It is safer.

January 5, 2014, Sunday

Posted images hope to be noticed,
Noticed by those who we think matter.
Holding breath and hope to be noticed.
When noticed quick joyful bolts flash though us.                                                                                      Why do we long to be noticed?
Some notice every time we post an image.
Those likes become thinner after awhile.
See through paper which cuts our truth.
Longing to be judged even though hating it.
Seconds of pleasure, often leads to false hope. 

For that fifteen minutes/seconds of fame, is fleeting,
Is scurrying off to do something else.