New Painting: Invitation to a Muse

New Painting: Unfinished

First Friday, November 6, 2009

Standing with "The Canvas" and "The Writer," at the Upstate Artists Guild show "Fresh Produce."

Last night, I had the honoor of seeing two of my favorite paintings from this summer/autumn season hang at the UAG Show. Both are special in their own right. Both taken from photos shared with me and expanded upon to articulate a vision.

It has been a good season for painting, but now it is time to take a short break. To rest up, make some notes, think of future projects but not paint anything new. I still have a few pieces to complete, and they will be done. I still need to implement the armchair series.

New Painting: Armchair in Cloister

Armchair in Cloister, 2009, oil on wood.

New Painting and Poem: The Writer

The Writer (2009, oil on wood)

The Writer

In the provocative black and white photo
You express mystery and passion and vulnerability
In the painting with shades of blue
You face the canvas and smile for me.

Surrounded by novels and histories and poetry
Moleskines and legal notebooks all over the bed
Black-rimmed reading glasses in your hand
Visions and nightmares gestating in your head.

And my god your body what a figure, gorgeous and free
To go with such an expansive mind and beautiful heart
I cannot touch you in the here and now, so I paint.
For our new and intense friendship, a fitting start.


© fprm, 2009

New Poem: The Bookstore

The Bookstore

The bell on the opened door announces my presence,
and the smells of old paper and freshly brewed French Roast
confirm that I am home.

Quietly but excitedly, I begin to explore the stacks,
seeking prose poems by Baudelaire, biographies of Gauguin, and
Gibbon's epic history of Rome.

And you sit silently behind your desk,
black-rimmed glasses on your head, intense and alone,
pondering your next tome.

You peacefully acknowledge my silent passion,
with slight smile and raised eyebrow, and
confirm: I am home.


© fprm, 2009

10-9-2009

Alone in a Bar

Alone at the Bar

alone at the bar
left my conscience at home
eyes scanning vampire-like in the darkness
on the streets where i roam

this is what happens
when you are not around
this is what happens
when there is no you to love
no you to undress
no you to drink my wine
no you to embrace
no you to throw off the pearls

when the odds of you sliding into my bed
are borderline slim to nil
i seek worthy proxies
i seek meaningful thrills

but let’s be honest
they are not what i seek
without you in my bed
it’s just time to kill.