When You’ve Nothing To Say…

Go ‘Throwback Thursday’!

I’m still unpacking (shush now) and came across a folder of artwork – prints, kids’ early work, keepable greeting cards – all that stuff. Also, this photo of an original art piece done by my friend Cory LeBlanc, an Ottawa Indie art scene regular. It was done several years ago, oil pastel of my eyes. My favourite bit is the rusty-brown ‘witch mark’ in my left eye.

Kei's Eyes by Cory LeBlanc

Kei’s Eyes by Cory LeBlanc

Hue

Colour me in sin
Cinnamon
Angel dust
Disguised as lust

Paint me a view
Me and you
Good luck token
Our eyes wide open

Brush me in tones
Skin to bone
A perfect shade
Of love we’ve made

Your tone my hue
An artist’s view
Words I fashion
Abstracts of passion

Painter, Poet Artist, Muse
Love gained, hearts we lose
I pen our Infinity
You paint our Unity

Shade, tone, tint and hue
Hearts of me and you
We blend together
In the art of forever

~ kei
21 August 2015

Heightened

Your voice is an echo kissing my ear

Your scent is sandalwood and verbena

Your taste is a lingering temptation on my tongue

Your touch is tactile elation on my skin

Your image shimmers behind my closed eyelids

Wrapped in all that I can touch… scent, taste, see and hear
Thoughts rushing headlong from Past to Present tense
And I long to reclaim and leave behind my fear
And to trust once again in my sixth sense

~ kei
17 June 2015

©Hans Markat

The Five Senses by Hans Markat

Quotable

Don’t allow another person to throw their black and white over the rainbow of your soul

And when someone shows you their true colours
Don’t try to repaint them

~ kei

18 August 2014

(The first line is my own, the second line is a well known quote, credited to “Anonymous”. If you know the original source, please let me know)

True Colors by TheLCoakster on Deviant Art

Reflections Haikus ~ One

It’s a metaphor
Passion, Hope, dreams will escape
Without that first step

~ kei
6 June 2014

Start Here by Benjamin Prewitt

Start Here by Benjamin Prewitt

Mixed media
Inks,oils,acrylics
Cradled birch panel
2014 Simple Truths collection

From the studio of Benjamin Prewitt.

Read the story of this inspirational piece at this link: Start Here Completed.

Find prints of Ben’s work here: Benjamin, Artist at Crated

Good Morning

The first thing I saw this morning… your beautiful face

Can I say these things to you?

How beautiful you are, how your smile makes my knees weak
That the colour of your eyes exists only to shame the skies

All I want is to stare at you

To learn every expression, to watch your hands in their creation.
Observing your tall frame in the motion of living and loving

My words want to wrap round you

Stories of new beginnings, tales of hope, healing and redemption,
Tales of lost souls found and love ever after

These are only thoughts as your smile envelopes me. for there are only softest sighs as you paint your desire onto the willing canvas of my body; only your heartbeat as I write words of love through the silvered sable hair on your chest onto the parchment of your skin

~ kei
3 May 2013

Man's chin black white

Full Crow Moon Thoughts

I woke to the descent of the Full Crow Moon and your words.
Your words
How is it that your words leave me speechless?
Why am I unable to put form in ink to the images and emotions that you make in my head?
My words
They seem so inadequate, so small. I sit here and stare and stare, willing my heart to the page
I am stuck here
Caught on the cusp of emotion that is like the edge of a volcano
I am terrified to feel this way again
Terrified that it’s too soon, that I’m too raw, that I am projecting
Your words
Speaking to me in shades and swirls of blue and green
Your words reach for me through colour but your thoughts remain unseen
My words
Dip and dance in my head. Seeking sunlight shafts of light that you make in the darkness there
They run on and on. Twirling pirouettes and endless dervish raptures.
Seeking to find the music in the colour and the song in the lines
Searching for the right combination of verse and meaning to kiss your eyes
Striving for the perfect tone to paint your heart with the colour song of me

~ kei
16 March 2014

Love Lives Here Now

Love took a wrong turn at Albuquerque or maybe Albany
Love said build me a home and we will live together and for happily ever after
Love said “Baby, I can’t sleep without you, I’m nothing without you, I would die without you”
Love left her alone to die while he went Bowling… somewhere Green

She had built a house from nothing, it was small but a place to start
She furnished it with Budweiser and books; his favourite soap and dreams
She built it all for the two of them but it was a house of cards, it seems
She lives in a house that has never known his voice and will never know his love

At night she pulls her pillow over her head to muffle the shouting coming down the hall
At noon, she checks her mail to see if Love remembers her name, among all the others
At night she can hear the neighbour girl’s baby daddy being arrested
At dawn she wonders if three floors would only maim her if she jumped

The boy could see all Love’s colour, his hands knew Love’s feel
The man’s brush made Love on blank canvas and he made it real
The girl saw Love and it kissed her soul from two thousand miles away
The woman’s house is now a home, Love came to live with her today

~ kei
28 February 2014

Love by Ben

You can find Ben’s work on his website at: Expressions Of My Life –  An Evolution Of Art

Gallery Opening ~ Friday Fictioneers

I thought I would try my hand at a Friday Fictioneer prompt. Inspired by rochellewisofffields.

Rochelle presents a challenge to write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end, based upon a picture that she provides on her blog.

Here is today’s picture prompt (below).

Gallery Opening

Word Count: 103

Genre: Fiction

janet-webbs-sangria

Liz felt like an imposter in the pretentious downtown Toronto gallery but these places were a hazard of dating Diego. Agents and critics adored him; fans and sycophants flocked to his shows. Unable to compete with his ego, she planned to end this gracefully, after tonight’s opening soirée. She had just set her glass of sangria on the painfully trendy brick bar; when it was shattered by a flying rock, turning the painting behind it, “Diego’s Blonde” to a vampiric redhead. The subject of the work; looking crazed and dishevelled, shouted “Sold!” from the doorway; turned on her heel and left the gallery.

**Constructive criticism welcome but please be gentle, this is my first time**