The Leaves are Laughing

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“The Leaves are Laughing” Painted Leaves – My Artwork – November 2018

A thousand green leaves thick
Seeking sunshine
Inviting Bach and song birds into its arms
Caterpillars bristling under the breezes
Purple lichen and spider’s laces
Sacred places
Dark blood Pluto
Stirring the truth in my bones
Leaves turning yellow
Mottled brown
The blazing orange of autumn
Falling into the thick, black mud
Covering discarded twigs
Sheltering snakes and beetles
Waiting for the frost
Dancing on underground roots
Embracing enticing perfumes
And, the silhouette of a hawk
Etched into the clouds
Laughing at the afternoon moon
And, the arrival of winter

 

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The Painted Forest

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“The Painted Forest” – Pencil, ink, watercolor and leaf on paper – My Artwork – 5 1/2″ x 7 7/8″

The painted forest is still this morning
Involved in dreams of atoms and energy
And, acorns choosing a home in the quiet earth
While the squirrels, awaiting their decisions
Watch their reflections in the clouds
Wondering why swollen seed pods have fallen
With the brittle and discarded twigs
Into fairy rings of golden mushrooms
In the same patterns as this morning’s tea leaves
Wondering why the bits of broken mirror
And, the stones the color of the sky
Have been carried off by crows
To the place where the dream of the forest goes
To the place where the golden mushroom grows

 

So, tell me a secret, painted forest
Tell me something no one knows
Tell me why the seed pods fall
Tell me where the echo goes
Tell me why the dew drops fade
Tell me why the white cloud grows
Tell me what the squirrels are thinking
Tell me what the acorns chose
Tell me, tell me, painted forest
Tell me something no one knows
Tell me what the tea leaves say
Tell me what the pattern shows
And, tell me, tell me, painted forest
Why the wind no longer blows

An Unwavering Song

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“An Unwavering Song” – My Digital Art – ArtRage

I am crossing the dizzying green patterns of the forest
Changing with every opal breeze
With the rising of every slanted sunbeam
With every breath of the cobalt blue beetle
Come to pollinate the ancient, porcelain magnolia flowers
And, rest in the embrace of her emerald, leather leaves
A summer morning
Not yet awake
Repeating a thousand generations of
Lavender mists fading into the shadows
Welcoming a solitary bird
Repeating a thousand generations of
An unwavering song

A Bird has Landed

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“A Bird has Landed” – My Digital Art – ArtRage – August 2018

A bird has landed
Somewhere in the mottled shadows of the forest
Listening to the echoes of his own songs
Waiting for the arrival of clouds
And, showers of rainbows
Hoping no one out there is trying to get him

V. Castellanos – August 2018

Forest

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“Forest” – My Digital Art – August 2018

In the thick of things, the forest is alive. Immersed in emotion.
Given up rigidity. Decided to take flight. Fallen in love.
Slipped between the breezes.
Leaves come and go without words.
Branches become magic wands.
Let the grasses learn to sing like bells.
Let the beetles dance wherever they will.
Let the sun enchant the dragonflies.
It is a perfect afternoon.

Ichetucknee Trees

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“Ichetucknee Trees” – 2017 –

I very much enjoyed this series. It was close to home and thus close to my heart. But, what interested me the most was the variety of colors with which it worked. Expressionism is all about color. We are blue when we are sad, green with envy, black rage, passion’s red, pretty in pink. This is the original sketch and, through the magic of digital software I was able to transform it into a summer day.

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“Ichetucknee Trees, Green” – Digital Art – 2017

As though this was not enough, further transformation brought this image.

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“Ichetucknee Trees, Blue” – Digital Art – 2017

Twilight in the forest. A whole different feeling, without adding a shadow.

I have not been able to decide which I like better.  My preference seems to change with the seasons and the time of day, with my mood, who I am with. What about you?

Sunday Morning

 

 

It was a glorious day. The sun rose like the blossoming of a rainbow flower and the forest was full of colors, as though it had something to say to seekers of beauty and lovers and lonely hearts.
The heartbeat of the earth is dancing in the leaves, excited by the expansive air, thrilled by red shadows, my eyes as modest as the morning, your hands as strong as the earth.

Edge of the Woods

 

"Edge of the Woods"
“Edge of the Woods” pastel on paper

If I were there, I would run through the golden fields, chasing the sun, running south, towards the horizon. I would catch him before the solstice arrives, before he gets entirely away. I would run, through golden meadows, the wind in my hair with birds on the wing. I would sing, I would fly, high, in the sky, above. Oh, my love! Run with me. I would run with you, I would run through, golden fields and meadows, rare, the wind in my hair. You are the one. Run with me. Run with me, chasing the sun.