I know being first in another’s life, Now what is like to no longer have, Or be, that. I know I am now peripherally In others’ life, and enjoy when place is Made for me. I am now no one’s number one, I may well now have to be that For myself alone. Doesn’t mean I accept being someone's Substitute until something better shows, Not from anyone.
Staying with friends this day, Morning omelets, then visiting A neighbor's studio. Coffee, with another just in From Malawi, ready for sleep, it’s A long flight. Throughout all, the aroma of lilacs. Such a Victorian symbol of Spring, and youth, And innocence. But beyond the fresh Joy of the season, the smell of Lilacs has always Evoked a minor key of nostalgia, A sense of loss for those things spring Can not renew. T'was a seven years difference, Between you and me. Today, A scant two. In the afternoon, we set out The lilacs and, shadowed By that scent Of memory, painted them Under the shade splashed oak. I miss you.
Left friends along that perfect seaside To head home to my place, yes, my place now, Though I know Home is as I am, wherever, however that is, In the letting me be satisfied for this now. So then why Much later, in an evening amidst kind hearted Enough people did I expect to find you With these strangers?
Waking to the sound of surf is just so Perfect. It really is, my ears and skin Awaken lightly, gently, To the ever present drumming of waves With the softness of salt air tickling the nose, All my surfaces. I walk the dogs early along the sand strand, Waves taller than I stand, wind high, before Returning to paint.
I am in that place Ava G wanted by the sea, A place I have learned, like so much, does Not last forever, Yet still may come on moments cherished, in its bits Of time, short or long, for the joy and beauty Of being there. I learn here, to acknowledge the wonder, the awe, to recognize the hurt, pains, joy Of first, now.
Last night we stayed in a lovely old house Perched by the banks of a tidal inlet Enjoying good hospitality. Early morning I drove my dear friend To fly off to her own adventures of Life allowing sweetness. This evening I walked the labyrinth I added to this home we made, alone, and Full of you.
A busy day before leaving and I planned to visit You this morning, but plans change. Chose to see An old friend, Spend the early day with her, then met others For dinner. Will stop by in the morning, share a beer with You
Yesterday sounds isolating, not the intention. As You and I, together, encompassed others Into the complete Sweet circle of our life, enjoying the richness They brought, I need now to find fulfillment On my own, Complete, where the company of others Becomes once again a joy adorning life Not directing it.
I walked these floor as a child Wondering what the world would bring. It brought you. I have walked these floors not so long past, Eaten by the misery of missing you. I still miss You, will always miss you being by me. It has taken awhile, feeling I can live, you, Only within me.
The sun is out and the snow melts Slowly in the cool morning light. I feel content To wake in this room with the dogs Underfoot and the house silent. I rise slowly From soft, grayed dreams of Hushed concerns, yet I am left Quiet of heart.
The Studio at Line's End Farm is where I paint and try to find some joy again, and some equilibrium, not simple these days. One weblog records thoughts, ideas, methods and mixtures, palettes, observations, actually anything that intrigues me concerning my painting and working in the studio. Another observes only the horse in paintings that I find influential. The last are done for my sanity. All are my opinion only, open to other suggestions.