Two Fishermen and a Fish

“Two Fishermen and a Fish” – My Artwork – 3″x 3″ – Pencil on paper – December 2018

One fish, two fish,
How do you do, fish?
Black fish, blue fish,
I am after you, fish.
A bold fish, a cold fish,
I don’t care how old, fish.

Green fish, mean fish,
Swimming in the stream, fish.
Fat fish, lean fish,
You are on my wish list, fish.

Brown fish, clown fish,
Swimming up and down, fish.
Blow fish, glow fish,
Nowhere left to go, fish.

Red fish, dead fish,
You will make a tasty dish.
Hatch a fish, catch a fish,
You will be delicious, fish.

A hook, a pole,
A roll of twine,
And, pretty soon,
You will be mine.

Butter sauce with lemon-lime,
Sage, oregano and thyme,
A lovely glass of cold, white wine,
A meal which will deserve a kiss.
I’d like to know, so I don’t miss,
Are there other words which rhyme with fish?


In the Dream of the Fish

“In the Dream of the Fish” – 11″ x 14″ oil pastels on paper with acrylic painted mahogany leaves – Spring 2018

I thought I was dreaming of fish but, it turns out fish also dream and I found I was instead inside of the dream of the fish.

Keep the Fish Kettle Boiling


I strongly suggest you do not allow the fish to have the run of the house and to come and go as they wish and to do whatever they want because they generally become bored almost at once and just lie on the floor, flop around and die.

I certainly hope you don’t think I am going to write something cute and clever every time I post a scrap of art. No. I am not cute enough nor clever enough for that. Instead, I will probably do like everyone else and tell you the why or how. How is easy because I live in a forest and leaves are everywhere. Acrylic paint and ink. Why? Not because leaves are ephemeral, changing over the course of time. No. Because leaves spill over the two dimensional world into the three dimensional realm, into sculptural reality. Half fish out of water, half incredible mermaid fallen out of a tree, half fantastic fantasy, half incongruous, improbable, impossible, but, doesn’t the charm of the surreal lie in the unexpected?



How quick goes by a butterfly, and, why? You say you care, but you don’t know? Off to find a hidden rainbow? Maybe yes and maybe no. Gone, quick as a song, and long, before the end of days, before this leaf decays, before this fish has swum away, downstream, out of my mind, out of my dream. What does it mean?

Nothing, or, whatever you wish.