Cocktails for two.

Last night was one of the Paint Night Out nights at the Vanguard Gallery.  We had originally hoped to hold this in a local night club but this didn’t work out for various reasons.  However for the venue I had prepared something a little different – a couple of cocktail glasses to enjoy!  And I think everyone did enjoy the night.  One gal was a long time friend who surprised me by turning up – and said that one of the most encouraging parts of the class was when her painting wasn’t going as expected and I would say ‘it’s ok, we can fix that’.   It took a lot of the fear out of trying to paint.

painting class

I get so involved with the teaching, I forget to take photos at earlier stages……

painting class

Getting some details in on the glasses

painting class

All done. Drink up!

Hunger bowls

These two bowls are donated by Ikea to the Salvation Army for local artists in Moreno Valley to decorate for auction for the support of homeless children in the area.  Rick Archer, the gallerist at Vanguard Gallery talked me into painting two bowls this year by simply sliding both under my nose one day while I was at the gallery.  I’ll be delivering these today.  You can see more about the Hunger Bowl project on the Vanguard website.

The bowl on the left has painted around the rim: “Hunger is only as deep as a bowl… but the fear of it is as deep as the sky.”  At the bottom is a dark moonless night skyscape.

The bowl on the right has painted around the rim: “A hungry bowl is a shallow bowl, not deep enough to capture the morsels of hope that are thrown into it.”  The little green and white flecks you see are a dollar bill cut up in little pieces.

A poem inspired by a friend.

Draconian Measures

I hear your wings trembling
through your words,
your fear of falling
well founded on circumstance
but nevertheless preventing you
from those branch to branch leaps
that all scaled angels can do.

Your response is to pile up
a blue brick fortress
rows upon rows of
alternating mortared protection
guarding you from the life
you know you really
wish to lead
but don’t know how.

Between the battlements you hide
with your numeric friends,
arabic ghosts
who play together
with perfect symmetry.
I bet you wished that humans functioned
according to GAAP.

Maybe I can persuade you to
remove one brick,
poke your head through and tell your lover
‘I’m scared, hold me
show me how to match wingbeats across this chasm,
gaze into your eyes
and never look down.’