New paintings and regular art updates.
Cry for them
Cry for the mothers
The grand parents
Children and babies
Cry for them
Cry for the men
Bombed and shelled
Shot
Cry for the lost lives
The hope destroyed.
Cry for the humans
And animals
All of them lost.
Sheltered in basements
In cellars and underpasses
Cry for all victims
Across the world.
Ukraine, Syria, Yemen
So many more wars
When do the tears stop?
He’s getting older, I watch him daily. He’s getting older, but he can still be kittenish. A quick mrpurr and then a dash across the room. But he likes to sleep. His heart is old, beats slowly. I hope he will stay a few years longer. Happy and contented.
Yesterday I watched a YouTube video of a man saying farewell to his much loved cat. He lay on the floor, strolling the cats nose and cheeks gently. You could see his tears. I remember the times I have had to say goodbye too.
So much sadness in the world today. Farewells are mounting up. Let there be love and peace for a change. X
When you open up Facebook you don’t expect to hear that a friend has passed away. Someone who I admired. A good artist and a compassionate and sensitive man.
I guess I would rather find out than not know at all. Waiting to see if he would post new art, or a post about how he was feeling. He went missing for a couple of months about two years ago. He eventually turned up and everything turned out OK.
Now, I don’t know. I guess I’m glad I met him on a website and saw his art, he lived in a different country so we were never going to meet up. But that doesn’t matter, he was a very good artist and was a thoughtful person.
I lost another friend in a similar way last year. This was a woman from overseas. Another artist.
The internet allows people who would never normally meet to find each other. At least I’ve found out what has happened. Feeling very sad.
What emotions or feelings do you think are shown in this portrait? Anger, sadness, upset? Concentration or thought?
Sometimes it’s hard to tell. I know I drew this a couple of years ago and the sitter was, I think, either listening to the radio or watching TV. I think the look is concentration. Some peoples can sag when they are in repose. I know it takes more muscles to frown than to smile, but sometimes a face takes on a characteristic look, a shape it settles into. That’s this look…
World wrapped… Up
In a plastic bag,
Or bubble wrap….
World wrapped in packaging
In yards or meters of soft, slithering, veils.
Plastic permiates
Plastic stifles
Plastic swallowed
Blocking guts
Strangling
Plastic smothers
It won’t go away.
Like an infinite being
Never-ending nightmare.
Permanent
Plastic…..
Watching an old film from 1964. I can’t remember the title, it’s what they used to call a ‘kitchen sink’ drama. They were much more slow paced than modern films, but with a lot more content and thought. They make you question the reality of how people used to live.
As I watch I can see that it will probably end in tragedy. Callous men and downtrodden women. Emotions and complications. Sadness and worry….
Crying,
In sadness, in anger,
With fear, with hope.
Crying out loud,
Crying with happiness,
Relief.
Crying in dismay.
I cried loudly.
Cry, at the drop of a hat.
Cry-baby
Cry-ogenic
It never gets old
Tears of sadness and happiness.
She was staring straight ahead.
Looking into the distance,
Into the past or the future?
No one knows.
Staring hard, vision blurred,
Tears forgotten.
Memory faded.
Staring at what?
Old hysteria?
New apathy?
Hidden thoughts,
Was it fate?
No one will ever know.
There are so many sad things in the world today and sometimes they are overwhelming. We were singing quite a sad song at the music workshop today and one person could not join in. I think they were recently bereaved. Perhaps the song had special significance. I don’t know, but it made me think about love and loss, about how you can’t always know what’s going to happen next. It also made me feel sad about a relative whose situation has become difficult because they are spending a lot of time caring for someone else but are then neglecting themselves. Sometimes the burden that we put on ourselves can be debilitating.
Finally there are destitute people just in our neighbourhood, with no means of looking after themselves. The idea of austerity is wrong, no one should be put in a situation where they are homeless and hungry. This country has to ask itself why? Why don’t we care enough to turn things round? It’s easier to go out and buy things than give to charity, or pay a decent amount of tax to support those in need.
I’m not preaching, just thinking.
X
She cries quietly in a corner, there is no violence, no words to cut, no cruelty to endure. But she can see the changes. She can see the hesitation in his words, the slight tremor in his voice. Age is wearing him away more quickly than they had hoped. She was almost a decade younger than him. Would she retire and be able to spend quality time with him, or would it be too late to have a life. One where they could be together like they once were, reading each others thoughts, finishing each others words.
It’s been a few years, but each day he has drifted into his own mind and out of reality. Falling deeper into despair and dragging her down too.
That’s why she cried.
Mallaband-Brown