Immediately after I posted that long-ass project list, I sat down out in the sun and worked happily at a totally different, unlisted project, for an hour. That was kind of silly.
BUT, now I have a colored cartoon to work from for the my fishhook painting ("cartoon" in this case, is the sketch used as reference/exploration for a painting, not something by Disney). It's only a pale, poorly drawn imagining of what the splendid actual oil painting will be,* but
bluwyngz has been asking me to put up some art, so

The image came to me out of the blue one evening, then the details were inspired by the Yeats poem "The Song of Wandering Angus" -
I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
*I HOPE.
BUT, now I have a colored cartoon to work from for the my fishhook painting ("cartoon" in this case, is the sketch used as reference/exploration for a painting, not something by Disney). It's only a pale, poorly drawn imagining of what the splendid actual oil painting will be,* but
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The image came to me out of the blue one evening, then the details were inspired by the Yeats poem "The Song of Wandering Angus" -
I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
*I HOPE.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-11 10:11 am (UTC)From:Yay for art!!
It's lovely Saj. I hope you get to do the full painting. Poems are great as starting points. ( :
no subject
Date: 2007-08-11 02:54 pm (UTC)From:I'm particularly fond of Yeats. :)