Saturday 12 September 2009

Keeping up with the Joneses

Though I've used my other name all my professional life, there are some people who only know me by the name Jones, hence the addition in my title. This morning I launched a blog for my chorus, which can be viewed at  http://downtown-harmony.blogspot.com/
I'm going to make a bigger effort to update here regularly!  
Now I seem to have come out of my painter's block, I've been busy with
a couple of abstract oils, not yet finished, but take a look anyway. 
I'll post the finished works when I get there! 
Go to http://www.fapj.net/ to see more paintings.  
 

My Ukrainian colleague Olga Dmytrenko, an accomplished painter, and I have been compiling a collection of paintings to which I have added verse or worse! Here's an example. Please remember that all images and content in this blog are copyright and not available for copying or other use. If you are interested in a painting, please contact me. Olga also sells her paintings. I'll pass on any requests.
Here's one of Olga's paintings with my accompanying lines:










Who are they?
Molecules, synapses, bodies
Encased in spirit.
They stoop heavily as they walk.
The burden of guilt is great.
They must answer for the sins of the world.
They must eat meat while millions starve.
They must wear fine garments and jewels.
They must forget their own humanity.
The soul is a delicate organism.
It is weak and frail when challenged.
It needs to be cherished and loved
Like a child at the breast
Or a bird flying into the sun.
When the soul cannot bear the burden
Of being human, it cracks
From top to bottom.
Its substance breaks out like broken glass.
The broken soul knows no comfort.
Its tears are acid, burning into the universe.
It has no voice, no sight, no touch.
Each one of us has a breakable soul.
It can starve like the hungry body.
It can melt like ice in the sun.
The happy soul is lighter than air.
The broken soul is heavier than lead.
I know.
I have a soul,
Like the starving and the sick,
The lost and unloved.
Its jagged edges tear into my skin like knives.
Could you bear the pain, too?

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