An Artist, Photographer, Writer, Poet

Monthly Archives: November 2011

A November storm, 2011, Somesville, Maine, on the shore where they usually get rain with the snow.

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November
gets your attention
with its beauty and then
the final leaves bright with color
drop,… it seems like over night
you can hear them land
with a “thud.”
Trees show sky’s changes
through their skeletons
with hope of winter storms
coating their limbs
with snow, protection against
the ravages of winter,
and snow has a beauty
all its own.
.
Winter in Maine
is a damp cold,

especially along the coast.
Damp winds chilling you
til you have

cold in your “connections”.
Wood stoves take that chill
away…warm you til
even
your toes are toasty warm.

.
Long johns are a sign of
weather’s chilling effects…

when they go on, they don’t
come off til spring,
then everyone’s ready for
a change.
.
The ole timers say there’s
always hope for a mild winter
…that of course means rain
and ice, and problems with
the blueberry crops that need
their blanket of snow.
.
There’s a change
in the travel
, too,
with pot holes and

“speed bumps”…
folks back in the states call
“frost heave” …
my father called those roads
in the mid west,
“Wash Board Avenues”.
.
November
gets your attention
that’s for sure.
It’s beauty, it’s weather,
and weather changing
at the drop of a hat
and the hope
of the better weather staying
with the winter Downeaster storms
forgetting
where we live.
.
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Photo from Wikipedia...I believe that this is the portrait of Edward Winslow that hangs in his house in Plymouth...the tour guide said that he was the vainest of the Pilgrims because of the portrait. Because it was Thanksgiving, I thought he would be appropriate this year to write to him.

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Dear Many Greats Grandfather,
.
It is Thanksgiving tomorrow
and you come to mind,
as you were there
at the first
ever
Thanksgiving.
.
I’ve been reminded that you
and the others set out
on your voyage under
less than desirable
circumstances in your
personal lives,
to start your life history
over again.
The history books I’ve read
mention an illegitimate child
Ellen, aged 8 and her 3 siblings,
that accompanied your brother
and it seems you accompanied
them over the pond.

.
I would tell you if I could,
many of the family feels the same
as those dreadful people back
in your day.
What I would tell you is
there are not any illegitimate
children, in my beliefs …
if anyone is illegitimate,
it is the parents.
.
What a brave way to start again
regardless of the circumstances.
I’ve read of the times,
and visited your home
in Salem…
it is possible I got my love of art
from your lineage.
Your love of fine things
around the house
continues in the family.
.
I could go on and on,
but would like you to know,
this generation of mine,
and those of my children
and their children,
still carry the genes that
you continued when you
arrived in Plymouth
back in the day….
your day.

Peace and Love,

Sigrid, daughter of Mary Louise Winslow

Granddaughter of Edward Brenner Winslow
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.http://wewritepoems.wordpress.com/2011/11/23/prompt-81-its-post-your-poems-day/


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Light shines from within

Light seen, felt, shared, warming hearts

Light nurtures, feeds souls
.
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.Haiku Heights – Prompt #96 – Light


On the Wild Side...My Way. Watercolor on Yupo...2011...I see a person the left, reading...others see a face at the upper left with red hair blowing in the wind. Your interpretation of what you see, is always correct, of course.

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Wild and loud….
my color choices,

as an artist.
Out of the mold of reality,
“it’s not real”, it is said…
can you blame the critics
for their words.

As I grew to advanced age,
my choices became wilder,
not saying I’m good enough
to be compared

to Jean-Michel Basquiat, Picasso
or Matisse..
.but I understand

their wild choices
and need to express their
“wild” side.

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A 2011 watercolor portrait on YUPO. Painting on YUPO, I don't have a lot of control, so I have to decide when it is finished so not to ruin the parts I like. Wild but for me captures the essence of of model.

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1997 ... One of my first attempts to "be original" with a portrait...Sigh. It is a bit on the quiet side of wild as I look at it now. But it is always in the viewers eye as to what they see.

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My wild side lives in paints,
paper and canvas.
I can’t imagine the nature of those
whose wild side is the cruel side
of life…
Is their so called joy,
of seeing others….human,
pets or wild animals…
in fear of them
or
in their joy of the kill.
.
My thoughts end here,
I started happy,
and ended with a heavy heart
not wanting to think
of what may come next,
thinking of the wild and cruel
side of mankind…
too much,
too deep,
Peace to all tortured souls,
human or animal,
tame or wild,
who are at the mercy
of the wild thoughts of
those whose souls
think on a different wild
side….
colored in mean and black,
not rainbows and sparkles.

.

 

This is one of my favorite watercolor on YUPO paintings done this year. It can be displayed successfully vertically, horizontally: four different ways. The painting "painted itself" as I applied water, three colors of paint and set it out to dry. It was to be a background for a portrait... Wild, wouldn't you say?

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.Posted for D’verse Poets Pub – Wild hosted by Mark Kerstetter.


Now don’t get excited, I know it is before Midnight on the actual

date of the SWJ.  Odds are, it’s because of the eclipse of the moon

…see below…  but maybe it is because I got the photo of Bianca in

a strange position to sleep…draped across the front of my face !

Space Weather News for Nov. 25, 2011
http://spaceweather.com

SOLAR ECLIPSE: This morning, the new Moon passed in front of the sun producing a partial solar eclipse over Earth’s southern hemisphere. Sky watchers in Antarctica and parts of New Zealand and South Africa witnessed the solar disk turning into a crescent as slender as 9%. Images and more information are highlighted on today’s edition http://spaceweather.com.

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This is the second or third time Bianca has decided to drape herself around my neck to take a nap...but the first time I had my camera within reach...she was right against my face...I could still breathe, thank goodness...so I poked my head up and took the photo. She became annoyed at the attempts to get a photo of more than just my eyes...don't know why that was important...so, she zipped over to continue her nap on top of the stereo on the dresser. For almost 4 years she has not wanted anything to do with me unless she wanted something, and now up close and personal !

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Title inspired by poem by Canadian titled: "Clinging to you" blogger username, Heaven. .................................... kiss me anew, here before the last maple leaf falls, and first snowflake wets my pale lips, stilling time twisted in salty drenched arms . hurl me anew, here before the last rose petal dips, and first winter drop caresses my bare hips unfolding, clinging to you . by Heaven, Canada .

http://a-sweetlust.blogspot.com/2011/11/clinging-to-you.html

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Six Word Journal for Friday, November 25, 2011

Somesville/finished painting/Bianca photo

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I decided with all the hype on the amount of calories in a Thanksgiving meal, the discomfort afterwards of overeating, I would put my calories and daily cholesteral allowance in a couple of slices of a good pizza from Angelos...chicken, bacon and ranch, and dessert was a coconut bar covered in chocolate, the close second favorite food. Delightful meal. No kitchen to clean, no monstrous amount of leftovers. Peace and quiet. My kind of day. I could without a sugar muddled muddled mind give thanks for my family and friends, my blogging buddies, and my life as it is now.

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I thought I could get a photo of my cat, Bianca, sleeping on the edge of the tub...her radar for my footsteps even when she is asleep is always in alert mode....a new behavior, a curiosity for me...she also likes to sleep in the tub, and between the shower curtain and the inside plastic curtain. She'll sit at the far left between the two curtains to hide from me.

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Six Word Journal for Thanksgiving, 11/24/2011

Grateful/Thankful/Hopeful/Blessed/Peaceful/Content

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There was a man who lived in a hollow
his life was full of misery and filled with discontent.
He’d lost his love to another man
whose life wasn’t so shallow.

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.http://www.threewordwednesday.com/2011/11/3ww-cclxvii_23.html