Tuesday, December 25, 2007

virveldans



Her ser dere et av de nye prosjektene mine, som har ligget på vent en stund i vent på maling. Planen er å gjøre bakgrunnen litt mer i stil med "din tittel", men muligens kommer det en grønn virvel til, jeg er ikke sikker.

Sunday, December 9, 2007

A lovely World


"Painters"

Eighty years, an old lady now, sitting on the front porch
Watching the clouds roll by
They remind her of her lover, how he left her, and of times long ago.
When she used to color carelessly painted his portrait
A thousand times-or maybe just his smile-
And she and her canvas would follow him wherever he would go
'Cause they were painters and they were painting themselves
A lovely world.

Oil streaked daisies covered the living room wall
He put water-colored roses in her hair
He said, "Love, I love you, I want to give you mountains, the sunshine,
the sunset too
I just want to give you everything as beautiful as you are to me
'Cause they were painters and they were painting themselves
A lovely world.

So they sat down and made a drawing of their love, an art to live by
They painted every passion, every home, created every beautiful child
in the winter they were weavers of warmth,
in summer they were carpenters of love
They thought blue prints were too sad so they made them yellow
'Cause they were painters and they were painting themselves
A lovely world.

Until one day the rain fell as thick as black oil
And in her heart she knew something was wrong
She went running
through the orchard screaming,
'No God, don't take him from me!,'
But buy the time she got there, she feared he already had gone
She got to where he lay, water-colored roses in his hands for her
She threw them down screaming, 'Damn you man, don't leave me
with nothing left behind but these cold paintings, these cold portraits
to remind me!

He said, 'Love I leave, but only a little, try to understand
I put my soul in this life we created with these four hands
Love, I leave, but only a little this world holds me still
My body may die now, but these paintings are real.'
So many seasons came and many seasons went
and many times she saw her loves face watering the flowers,
talking to the trees and singing to his children
And when the wind blew, she knew he was listening,
and how he seamed to laugh along, and how he seemed to hold her
when she was crying
'Cause they were painters and they were painting themselves
A lovely world.

Eighty years, an old lady now, sitting on the front porch
Watching the clouds roll by, they remind her of her lover
how he left her and of times long ago, when she used to color carelessly,
Painted his portrait a thousand times, or maybe just his smile,
and she and her canvas would follow him wherever he would go
Yes, she and her canvas still follow
Because they are painters and they are painting themselves

A lovely world

(Jewel)

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

manglende maling

Tausheten de siste månedene skyldes litt lappeteppestrikking, men det kan vel så godt skyldes et rent praktisk problem; jeg er i ferd med å gå tom for maling. "Din tittel" tok omtrent absolutt alt jeg eide av hvitmaling, det være seg olje eller akryl, og tilsvarende det meste av blå, gul og grønt. Tilbake har jeg enorme mengder svart, en nesten meningsløs farge i store tuber, og som likevel følger med hvert eneste malesett jeg noensinne har kjøpt. Jeg har også endel rødmaling igjen, av mer uklare årsaker, som jeg gjerne skulle bli kvitt.



Motivet over skal jo være litt aggressivt, på et vis, dynamisk i farge og form. Her er det likevel ikke mer enn såvidt påbegynt, som et førsteutkast. Planen er å fikse på formen så den blir strammere, samt å muligens erstatte rødfargen med noe annet, gjerne noe lysere og mer metallisk. Kanskje skal bakgrunnen forbli hvit, men da i så fall med fargepletter, litt som teknikken i din tittel. Vi får se hva det blir til.

Og moralen er som følger, jeg ønsker meg maling til jul.

Saturday, December 1, 2007

hva tiden forsvinner i



Selv om det er taust, er det ikke stille. Jeg strikker lappeteppe, nr. 2, faktisk, for det første befinner seg nå i Polen hos min kusine. Det er morsomt, det er pent, og det er langtekkelig.