Category Archives: Original acrylic paintings.

Mimi Farina

DSCF1338[1]This is a painting of the beautiful Mimi Farina the sister of the equally beautiful Joan Baez. I came across a black and white photo of Mimi and was struck by her natural beauty and decided to paint her in colour. The eye colour and flesh tones and even the hair colour to a lesser degree are pure guesswork on my part, so my apologies if I have guessed wrong. Mimi sadly died far too young.

Peter Pan

I remember walking in Hyde Park in London and coming across a statue of Peter Pan and thinking about it later this poem drifted into my mind.

Peter Pan lives in the park now

He stands on a mountain of stone

His gaze is fixed past the serpentine

To a place faraway that was home

Pan lives in the park now

In bronze he is tethered and cold

There is something of death about him

But yet he will never grow old

Pan lives in the park now

The casting hides his yearning to fly

But I swear if you look at him closely

You can see a bronze tear in his eye

Pan lives in the park now

No music, no children to play

Eternity stretches before him

As day rolls to night rolls to day

Pan lives in the park now

Neverland will be never again

Because Pan he dies in the park now

And if you see him you will feel his pain.

 

Amongst broken branches.

This poem came to me whilst I walked through a forest and suddenly came across a huge section that had been cut down, leaving only an odd bare trunk that seemed to stand guard over it’s fallen friends. A sad and desolate place, waiting for new life to be breathed into the ravaged earth, but a place to reflect, in the way that sitting in a cemetery seems to bring about reflection and questioning.

 Like twisted limbs the trees did bend

Their trunks in tortured stance

The wind did whip and howl and tear

To force them into dance

The forest deep in dappled greens

Did swallow in my sounds

In silent step on cushioned earth

I walked this hallowed ground

The whispers came like murmured prayers

Soft floating through the air

They cut the wind like spirit knives

But no single leaf did stir

‘What love, what love,’ the whisper asked

‘What love, what truth is this?’

‘In unrequited warm embrace

Doest linger in her kiss?’

The question asked the murmur fades

From when and whence it lives

Whilst words they burrow deep and worm

No answers do they give

And so it goes this forest stroll

Amongst these stricken trees

The truth it lies ‘mongst broken branch

By lips brought to it’s knees

Despairing acceptance.

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This painting came about after a comment during a lecture by Keith Palmer about ‘meaning’ in paintings. This floated around my subconscious for a while until I saw a very good painting by a lady called Sharon in an art group I attend. Seeing that painting and hearing Keith’s words in my mind, caused me to seek an image to paint and I came across a version of this. I suppose it would be termed symbolism and whilst I know what I set out for the painting to say, I will leave the viewer to decide for themselves the meaning I attempted to paint into the finished item. I would certainly be interested in any interpretations.