The Lakeside Palette Club did an en plein aire paint out at a Marina. I found this charming little island just asking to be painted. I loved how inviting these two chairs were as they looked out over the water.
Panera Bread on a Sunday morning is a great place to get some practice sketching random people. I am going to go to various public places and capture a collection people. The object is to not only to get better at portraying their gestures or moods, but to tell a story. The above sketch is only one paragraph of the story I aim to tell. A collection of paragraphic sketches will hopefully start to form a story.
Budding Flower
by June Nash
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She sits, quiet, in back of the room.
Wishing, wanting to stand out, flaunt her plume
Like a model walking with confident stride
In dark shadow, instead, she seems to hide
Not know, unsure, of her latent power
With smile, and pride, she’d bloom like a flower
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She sits, quiet, fingers making the noise
Dreaming, waiting, to flaunt her style with poise
A pianist who plays with confident airs
In dark shadow, instead, silently stares
Not known, not shown, incredible power
With smile, and pride, she’d bloom like a flower
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About the painting:
Not quite finished yet. I like the way it is turning out though.
I finally got around to writing a poem for it.
I wrote two poems, but you will have to wait until next week to see the other.
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Not Alone
by June Nash
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Not alone
Just a click away
Sit at home
IMing each day
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House quiet
No visitors come
He bears it
With his online chums
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Though hugs miss
From lack of contact
Touch or kiss
Is only an act
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Not alone
Just a click away
Quiet phone
Heavy on heart weigh
Snow White Liar
by June Nash
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smooth talking man greets lovely lady
she doesn’t care that he seems shady
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like sweets on tongue, she eats up his lies
he praises her wit, beauty and eyes
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they may be truths, but how does one know
when they’re piled high in drifts like snow
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starved for attention, desperate for love
into the snow she drops her white glove
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it’s outline she sees, though very dim
like truth in the lies spoken by him
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his weak excuses, flakes upon flakes
deep down she knows they’re all lies he makes
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with all snow white lies, there comes a day
when truth shows through, lies melt away
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from warm sweet spun words ice only felt
watching with sadness, her snowman melt
June Nash 