Walking back from your house,
Orion calling to me over mine,
the glow at the next street light
burst into fluid noise, birdsong at midnight
rippling through our suburb
with no one but me to hear.
I should have gone back and got you,
taken you to hear.
But I’m still uncertain of your reaction,
pragmatic as you are,
and you need to get your students marking done.
The bird was calling out unheard
or heard only by me.
Just as you call and are unheard.
The idiot man who left you,
the sisters who think you should be
over it by now,
and only me, each Wednesday night
to listen to you as we paint.
Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond
A road to the central volcano of Faial island in the Azores, lined with blue Hyrandgea flowers:
A painting of our oldest hen, called Dave. I’ve tried to indicate movement:
Dave belongs to my youngest son, who is 17 today.
Another Monday painting of mine. I really enjoyed painting this Rhino –not from real life I’m afraid, but from a photo…..
In this cold, looking forward to warmer days ahead…..
“Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.”
Leonardo da Vinci
Let’s start the New Year with a colourful cafe flying the Jolly Roger in Angra do Heroísmo, Azores.
I have now painted this rock several times –not sure why!
Floating abstract rosebuds, achieved by swirling a brush of colour on a wet wash.
Art and philosophy
Elegant, sparse, fluid
With singular precision
Product of a moment
Product of a life’s practice
Product of the ages
Open to all with the time and open focus
Pad left open, pen laid down
Beauty and meaning await
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond