A wonderful insight into the mind and workings of Edward Hopper through his sketchbooks , illustrating and describing a process of creativity that evolved into his paintings that resonate so well with in there look and narrative and if you have not come across him yet i urge you to do so.
hope you enjoy this as much as me as i would love to delve through the pages and become intimate with the completed works
nsa tinsel and filament devices
elves a watching facebook and twitter
the santa is coming
who has been naughty or nice
on sled pulled by drones
war on terror so far unfinished
bringing gifts to a hurting poor
low pay, taxation and what of medicare
food bank turkey in a suspicious world
ho ho ho
debt advice and feeling jolly
check the tree for gps and listening devices
holly wreath marks the door
apocalpyse around the corner
automatic rifle and several handguns
a thousand tins of beans
wal mart generation
in a generation x world
fattened wealthy bulls work the market
bonuses pour from the sky
the santa is coming
ho ho ho
with foreclosure signs
and spooks past and present
the santa is coming
you must feel joyful and triumphant
hand on heart god bless everyone
one and all
primaries and elections
next on elves agenda
so use your time
and think
what do you want
ho ho ho
this voice of the river
pressed wavelets to the hull,
kisses gentle
as the heat of day waned,
there is an island
he took himself to
and revealed not to many,
his sister stretched her hand
to the surface,
his obsession that yellow obsession
of scrawled canvas
becoming painfully light
each coming and passing day,
his work confessional
to a degree that
his lips where bitten into scabs
and fingernails worn,
absinthe stained his teeth
and confounded the workings
of an already fractured mind,
he wanted to show
one person the accommodation
crooked walls hung with works
salons would faint at,
not his usual pastorals and portraits,
this was a diminished reality
with a lot of truth
his sarcasm would not yield
afraid of her reaction
progressed slowly
yesterday still had a grip,
he could not release
approaching jetty
tremors worked in his arms,
breathing quickened,
when the moon set
he would be revealed
and her pain would be no loss,
when the rains came
he would return alone
clouds would cover the moon
and deny reflection and illumination
there was a lot more to be done
John Singer Sargent – Autumn on The River 1889
velvetmedia 