This new mother/newborn is based on impressionism.
Here I wanted to keep intact the soft and tender atmosphere between mother and newborn
without going too much in to details.
Let me know what you think about it.
Made with Square InstaPic
Made with Square InstaPic
Made with Square InstaPic
Since beginning the motherhood portrait in oil painting I have ventured in the thrill of texture from another angle and have tremendous pleasure with its results.
Sea in all seasons is my passion which makes this creative moment one of delight & inspiration.
Check under the category poetry for poems on the subject…
Please scroll down for the close up.
Don’t forget to check…
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This is the following, it is even better than the first part in the sense that she goes deeper into what she wanted to get at…
Enjoy it!
©copyright2013owpp
This poem is a result of a memorable first time rainy visit, to Jerusalem
Jerusalem
————-
We climb
Painfully toward you
The cypresses point their
Peaks toward the heavens
Toward you God
It is winter and cold
But in my heart
Is joy
For I find you, dripping
Noisy, stirring
As a sister
Jerusalem in rain
The Wall, where everything glistens
Is to have touched God,
To wrap oneself in divine,
Being in the center, a concave
Let one self coddled.
How your stones are beautiful!
Witnesses of time
Sculptured by the wind
Cold by moments
Scorching often
I approach to brush you lightly…
Per emotion, I hesitate
But my hand rushes
My eyes close
Your energy encircles me
And my soul loves…
As a blind
I follow your relief
Forget my grievances
Time fades
A horn bellows
A prayer for the mass
I am bound to you
By serenity, your pride
Your wisdom and faith
Never had I seen you
As glistening and adorned
Sparkling and sated
Then, we move away painfully. From you
Oh! Jerusalem
The cypresses point their peaks through the mist
My eyes cloud over
Toward the heavens,
Toward you, God.
————-
Jérusalem
————
Nous grimpons péniblement vers toi
Les cyprès pointent leurs
Cimes vers les cieux
Vers toi Dieu.
C’est l’hiver, il fait froid
Mais dans mon cœur
C’est la joie.
Car je te retrouve ruisselante
Bruyante et émouvante
Comme une sœur.
Jérusalem dans la pluie,
Le Mur où tout luit,
C’est toucher Dieu.
M’envelopper de divinité
Etre au centre, au creux
Me laisser dorloter
Que tes pierres sont belles !
Témoin du temps
Sculpter par le vent
Froide par moment
Brûlante souvent
Je m’approche pour t’effleurer…
Par émotions j’hésite
Mais ma main se précipite
Mes yeux se ferment
Ton énergie me cerne
Et mon âme t’aime.
Comme une aveugle
Je suis tes reliefs
Oublie mes griefs
Le temps s’efface
Une corne beugle
Une prière pour la masse
Je suis lié à toi
Par la sérénité, ta fierté
Ta sagesse et ta foi
Jamais je ne t’avais vu
Aussi luisante et parée
Brillante et repu.
Puis, nous nous éloignons péniblement. De toi
Ô ! Jérusalem
Les cyprès pointent leurs cimes à travers la brume
Mes yeux s’embrument.
Vers les cieux,
Vers toi, Dieu.
Good times…
©copyright2013owpp
This essay was coming out of the low moments as a result of doing what I have most pleasure in doing. Writing and painting and sharing it on the blog. Music and photography will have to wait until I start feeling more comfortable with those .
Good times
————-
Does it occur to us that sometimes our writings have a tremendous amount of despair or self-abuse described?
Writing is for everyone liberating. It is the first thing that comes to our mind when hurt gnaws at us. At the end of the page we feel cleansed.
But could we focus for once on the times rays of rationality beam through? The days we tuck in fourteen hours of work, feel tired but so alive?
Get so absorbed in our task that we forget about food and eat solely for the physical energy. What a blessing, what a truce! So much easier than the fight.
What about the enthusiasm, the love and joy we spread around, the closeness to our cherished ones and the protective wings we encircle them with, the peace felt, by doing small and seemingly insignificant tasks that feel grand to us?
Small is sometimes big.
Is that not a far brighter subject?
The saying goes “without obscurity we would not see the light“
Appreciation comes from the lack of… Had we not gone without in the past, how could we know what is here now?
This essay is dedicated to all those in recovery. To a world of people who have the courage and audacity to face and work on their imperfections, which everyone has.
To them I bow and wish to give an apercu, a glimmer of what can be, with a bit of tenacity.
Be strong, do not bend to what you would call our darker moments yet, be flexible and undulate with the current, it will lead you to quiet sparkles, to serene bliss and undetected Nirvana.
Can we believe? I do.
That is the journey I took many years ago. Every year I believe I have found all the truth that exists and every year I am proved wrong. There is always some more…
There are many ways that lead to Rome. To a few, it will be wisdom, others, knowledge or experience, which is the best teacher of all, it will lead you to the light brought by comprehension… To that instant of clarity, the split second where it all fits…
The doors open and you walk in a state of…
Life is worth living for, the past trials were all worth it, for this inner-discovery. No loud trumpets, no explosive fireworks, just, THIS… NOW…
And that is all that matters.
©copyright2013owpp
©copyright2013owpp
This poem was created soon after the count down hence the ” opening of… ” title
and is a result of a few summer days in a world full of dream and fantasy.
We had an amazing apartment-guide service from someone called Massimo Levis,
His references are,
massimolevis@gmail.com
Happy, healthy and serene new year!
Venice
———
Venice the beautiful
You sell dream by the load
The world envies you
Their imitation such pale
Reproduction!
The language that sings
“ Permesso “ in a quivering note
The Tabacchi, the stamps,
The postcards, sent hastily
To share, those seconds
Counted, this marvel.
This town so beautiful
That sells dream,
By the load
___________
Venise
——–
Venise la belle
Tu vends du rêve à la pelle
Le monde te jalouse
Leurs imitations si pâle
Reproduction !
La langue qui chante
« Permesso « en note frémissante
Les Tabacchi , les timbres,
Les cartes postales, envoyé à la hâte
Pour partager, ces secondes
Compté, cette merveille.
Cette ville si belle
Qui vend du rêve,
A la pelle
sublime world
©copyright2013owpp
Hi everyone!
These poems were written so long ago ( at the beginning of my ” poet career ” if I can call it so 🙂 )
that I had to recompose them but left the basic which was very good.
I hope you’ll enjoy it!
Monde sublime
————-
Au clair de lune
Lune en pleine vie
Je prends ma plûme
L’envie me saisit
Au clair de lune
Lune qui sourit
J’exerce ma plûme
La folie me rejouit
Sur papier blanchi
Je compose avec frénésie
Une lettre pour mes amies
La terre, l’univers rétrécit
Les mots jaillissent
Dansent et tissent
Une toile d’amour
Envoyer sans retour
Les mots fleurissent
entonnent et rugissent
L’élégance de ce monde
L’amitié qui gronde
Vertu négliger
réapprendre à respirer
Temps de regarder
Apprecier l’humanité
Penser ami
Savourer la vie
Demain, aujourd’hui
L’instant qui suit
Sur ces mots je signe
La fin de cette ligne
Ma feuille de vigne
De monde sublime
_______________
Sublime world
————-
By moonlight
moon full of life
I take my quill
Yen seizes me
By moonlight
Moon that smiles
I exert my quill
Madness rejoices me
On bleached paper
I compose frenetically
A letter for my friends
Earth and shrunken universe
Words spring
Dance and weave
A web of love
Sent with no-return
Words bloom
Sing and roar
The elegance of this world
Friendship rumbling
Virtue neglected
Learn to breathe ( again )
Time to see
Appreciate humanity
Think friend
Savor life
Tomorrow, today
Moments that follow
On these words I sign
At the end of this line
My vine leaf
With ( world ) sublime!
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