Art Title: Into the Night © Michelle Pyke Colour My World
Visit her blog to see additional artwork.
The artist lives in Australia and specializes in Mixed Media.
Artwork used with permission from Michelle Pyke.
Image Prompt: Into the Night
Art Title: Into the Night © Michelle Pyke Colour My World
Visit her blog to see additional artwork.
Artwork used with permission from Michelle Pyke.
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11 comments:
Lifted
from darkness
into light
saved
...the message that this image evokes for me relates well to a past blog entry http://sophismpress.blogspot.com/2009/01/renewing-creative-fire.html
my awareness of life beyond form, lifts me up; allows me to fly.
Lisa x
I love that type of art. Very beautiful Nancy, thx for sharing.
I'll "borrow" a line from Chrisy:>
Lifted from darkness
woman is no longer earthbound
but flies freely
to become the mother
of all things known and unknown.
Into the night, into the shadow
she watches her children
and protects them from evil forces
and keeps them safe as they sleep.
Open up your arms
and let the world be at your feet...
Let yourself spiritually aware
and get prepared for the eternal meet...
Why do I always dream of flight
When I drift off into night
And why does it so often seem
That all of us will have this dream
Is it envy, fancy, or
Do all these dreams mean something more
Ancestral mem'ries: ages past
A future that has been pre-cast
A message from some greater powers
Guiding us to finer hours...
Despite the joy that flight dreams bring
I'd trade them for the real thing
And no more need to dream of flight
When I drift off into the night.
Isn't Michelle's work brilliant. I love it.
Love, check.
Life, half check.
Laughter, half check.
Lay, check.
You are going to have to keep analyzing, completely wrong.
xoxo
Love Renee
(prose poem by Therese L. Broderick of Albany, NY, USA)
Alas. My daughter, born from a rose, will never wear the pair of pink mittens I embroider in silk, needle between stiff old fingers. Gossamer, like morning's web spread from petal to blade of grass. I mourn. She wanders among threads, bobbins, patches for holes, re-used collars and cuffs. When lost, she cries for mamma. How can I hear the small knot in her voice? The lonely odd mole is deaf and silent. His fur, soft as the lining of a winter coat. In the spring, she will fly away, away, with a sparrow. Pictures of birds : I knit them into shawls. Forever. For my child, size of my thumb.
WOODSTOCK
I remember those days, my visions so clear
Free spirit, free love, free drugs and free beer
"Try this pill" she said, with a gleam in her eye.
I did. Sprouted wings and learned I could fly
That's me in the painting, in case you were curious
My kids do that now, I'd simply be furious
Renee is on the ball as usual. Some came close though :0)
Thank you for posting my work lovely Nancy.
Its exciting to be 'famous' for a day
My pleasure, Michelle! Thanks for allowing me:)
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