Sleepy Sundays: Glide

GlideGlide

Perspective is a gift some of us share more easily in writing rather than art. It’s rare I get to show you two different versions of a piece – so allow me to dazzle you with your own point of view. If you analyze both of these renders closely, you’ll see so many differences in the tones and colors of each.

(Click images to view larger versions)

Glide (original)Glide

Ultimately, I chose the blue for this week’s post because it fit the feel and mood of a theme I’m trying to capture this month. Which do you like better? Why?

Do you wish you could fly?

Have an artsy Sunday!

Sleepy Sundays: Father’s Day in the Clouds

There was an inner struggle with today’s Sleepy Sundays post. I don’t want to take the attention away from the fathers that are doing an excellent job. However, I feel it’s important to acknowledge the fathers that are no longer with us. I know this is a somber day for some, including myself. With that in mind, I’m going to switch things up this week.

Below is a collection of all my previous art/photography that was inspired by or reminds me of my father.

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Happy Father’s Day in the clouds, Dad.

To all of the wonderful father’s out there: Happy Father’s Day

I’ll Light a Candle for You

I struggled to write this post today. Every fiber of me didn’t want to, but I knew it’d be therapeutic.

Today is my mother’s birthday. I’d like to think of it and celebrate it as just that, but I can’t. I can’t because this is also the anniversary of her death. She passed away 8years ago today…on her 43rd birthday.

I’ve spent the last few years of my life being a more positive person, and trying to help others like me move past their grief & depression. Yet today, I can’t help but feel sad. I miss her. I miss her with every ounce of me. I miss the talks we had, I miss her goofiness, I miss her smile…I miss her.

Murphy's Oil Soap
If I see or smell this stuff, I’ll cry. She used to clean with it. We’d laugh and joke about how we loved the piney smell.

Certain objects and things that remind me of her still induce tears.

There are many artistic tributes I’ve done to her, but I struggle writing about her. That is the most personal for me. Somehow, I was able to today.

Maybe someday I’ll build the courage to write a book about her. She had a way of making most anyone feel better. Yet, when she was upset, so were you. If she cried, it would break your heart and become contagious. She was a wonderful person. She was my favorite person.

Shine

I love you, Mom. Happy Birthday.

(She always liked this song. Strangely enough, the morning she passed away, I came back from the hospital full of tears. After I cried my eyes out for hours, I turned on the radio and this song came on.)

A True “Jersey Boy”

I had to pause my posting hiatus today in order to pay respect to a beloved actor, James Gandolfini.

James Gandolfini(Image property of HBO.)

Gandolfini was a New Jersey native, and died yesterday, Wednesday June 19th, 2013.

Below is an article with some information known so far:
James Gandolfini: Variety

A New Jersey native & Italian-Amercian myself, I was saddened by his sudden death.
Although, the role he was best known for (Tony Soprano of the HBO hit “The Sopranos) was sometimes criticized for being stereotypical, I was a fan of the show.

The Sopranos was revered for being a piece of writing genius. Gandolfini was known for giving depth to both the role he played and the show.

He will indeed be missed.

For the Fathers Out There

Father's Day greeting

After all these years, I can’t shake this one image from my past. A group of us kindergarteners sat around a long table and the teacher handed out paper and art supplies. She asked the class to make a Father’s Day card for our dads. I immediately felt the tears well up in my eyes. Something pushed me to hold them back, though. Maybe it was my grandmother’s voice in my head telling me not to be a “crybaby”, maybe it wasn’t. I held it all in – and with this bottling of emotions, another part of me pushed to put my grief to use.

With my markers and crayons in hand, I proceeded to make the most beautiful Father’s Day card ever…for my grandfather. Some little jerk in my class saw it when I finished and made fun of me. Somehow, I wasn’t going to let him get to me. This card was for my grandfather because he meant a lot to me. Even though he wasn’t my actual father, he raised me as if I was his own.

There was a coldness left with me when my father passed on, but my grandfather always showed me warmth. He always tried to heal that sadness. Part of it was knowing how I felt, because he lost his father when he was a child as well. The other part was simply that he loved me.

Later that day, I marched that card home to my grandfather and his eyes welled up too. Only this time, it was joy. I had never seem him get misty-eyed before. He gave me a gigantic bear hug and said “Thank you.”

He still talks about that card to this day.

To all the fathers out there:

Happy Father’s Day!

You are special, you are loved, and you are appreciated.

To Fly

This is one of the last parts of my black and white series.

“Birds on a Wire”

Birds on a WireFor my Dad – who always admired birds.

“Only the good die young.” – Billy Joel

To Build a Card Castle…

Daily Post Prompt: Explain why you chose your blog’s title and what it means to you.

Well, Daily Post prompt, I already have. Recently, in fact.
You can read The Story here.

I may only leave that page up temporarily, based on the feedback it receives. You must understand, it is deeply personal to me…and in the past, my enemies have used details like this as weapons.

Please enjoy, after all, it’s the story behind this place. I found it strange that the prompt came up after I decided to share it.

Not Tomorrow

Today was a strange day for me to say the least. Although, that is definitely an understatement for some people close to home.
In order to give you a clear picture of this story through my eyes..I must outline the day’s events.

I awoke today to the pounding sound of a jackhammer tearing up the sidewalk outside of my building. My landlord had neglected to mention that there would be workers here as early as the morning birds. There was nothing I could do about it. So, I got out of bed, stumbled into the kitchen like a zombie, and made my angry family breakfast. They’d been woken up too, and none of us are morning people.

Since it was about an hour earlier than we’re all used to getting up, we were all out of sorts. We tossed around the idea that we’d discussed the night before; about going to the supermarket today instead of tomorrow. This is not usual for us, but a welcome change because my other half is on vacation. Normally, we’d just wait until Saturday.
Before I headed into the shower, I happened to check my phone. I had three missed calls. “THREE?! Three missed calls before 8AM?” I screamed to myself in my head. This had to be something bad. All three were from a close relative. I paused for a second, fearing the worst.
During that pause, I saw this on the news:
Today’s Events – Fatal Shooting at Old Bridge, NJ Pathmark
I stood in shock. As this is where we were about to go. We went there every weekend.
My heart sank as I just sensed that I must know the people involved. As more and more details emerged, I realized I had.
So, I called up my family member, former police themselves. They uttered all the same details I’d just heard. We sat & exchanged shock and disbelief.

You see, I moved out of this town a few years ago. Some family and friends still reside there, though. We still shop there, my son’s doctor is there, and we visit quite often.

My head simply can’t grasp why someone would want to take innocent lives. This just hit way too close to home. It’s making national news as we speak. Yet, one of the victims just checked out my groceries last week. She laughed at how my son was counting the numbers as our grocery bill racked up. It has me shocked but also very sad. These people were so young.

We still had to grocery shop but obviously we couldn’t go there. It’s a crime scene now. I visited my family member & on the way there, we drove past all of the news crews & their cameras. We saw news helicopters flying overhead. It felt like a scene out of some movie.
I know this kind of thing could happen anywhere but, I can’t help but think:
“Is this the kind of world I’m raising my child in?”
It just didn’t seem this bad when I was growing up. Maybe that’s a naive statement but that’s certainly how it seemed.
Forgive my lack of conclusion. Truth be told, this just has me stunned and saddened.