Canvas: Blogging A to Z Letter C

The brush gently moved over the worn canvas bringing back the vibrancy of the colors. The long hours of 

restoration extending the life of the vision before him. In a way she had been captured too. Ethan sat back and stretched, he’d been sitting for hours at the easel. The beautiful woman rendered before him was a familiar face.

One he had thought he’d forgotten. “How cruel can our memories be? To block something for so long, and then let it all rush back in a moment.”

Lightly his fingers traced over the long hair of the woman in the painting. She was so passionate. He could still feel the press of her lips on his as he closed his eyes. Those sweet kisses soon turned to curses.

He was to blame, of that there was no doubt. She thought he had eyes only for her and really he’d had eyes for Selena, her sister, and a few other ladies of the square.

For being so giving with others she had him cursed. Something he laughed at until the next sunrise.

A glance at the clock made him sigh. He covered the canvas to protect it during the day. He could feel the dawn coming, Ethan wondered if this is what vampires felt as the sun began to break the edge of the sky. 

He walked out onto the balcony and watched the sky begin to turn from darkness into brilliant light. The world waking. A familiar tingle began as the first rays touched land. Slowly he began to fade. The brighter the sun became the less of him there was to see.

When the last of night had been sent on its way Ethan had gone back to his canvas. His physical body was taken not to be returned until sunset. During the day he hung above the mantel. A modern looking man in a Renaissance decorated room. The brass plate on the frame says Ethan Osborne 1437.

To live forever, days trapped in a canvas world. Night brings freedom to walk the earth. That is his curse for breaking the heart of a witch.  

A Gallant Night :Blogging from A to Z letter A

Lucinda stood in the gallery and sipped her wine as she gazed at the veduta. The landscape was timely done in earthy oils. The artist expressed great elocution in his work. As she moved on through the gallery, she found another painting. This one seemed so real, as if the man standing at the parapet could tumble out of the work.

Applause erupted as the artist raised his glass in a toast to Phillip Glazer. Pronounced fee-leep glass-a-er. The shmuck probably wasn’t even French. Lucinda had a premonition that all the artist’s efforts to impress the great critic were all a fallacy.

In her mind’s eye she could picture the review in which uppity Philip would eviscerate the young artisan. At the very least sever an artery.

With a sigh, she moved into the exhibits. Lucinda couldn’t help a quiet laugh as she passed a couple. The gentleman was trying to impress his lady friend, badly. He stood back from the painting with a distant expression. Then proclaimed that the artist was ocular. Oh yes, the young man had a vision alright. A vision of getting that little girl between the sheets.

A huge landscape caught her eye. The view was from the bottom of a gorge. Near the end of the great trench was a cave, coming out of the gaping mouth was supposed to be a bear. After another sip from her flute, she decided the artist should stick to landscapes only. The bear looked more like a hamster.

Next was a classic view of the medieval hero Robin Hood. The outlaw stood in disguise lined up with the other archers. Arrow knocked ready to fly true and win the legendary contest. With a grin, she entertained the notion of being able to step into the painting and blow in his ear as he let fly. Let’s see him make that shot.

An odd coupling by the same artist the next painting held a limo in the Nevada desert. A man dressed forties gangster style stood against the side of the car. He might have been attractive, but for the horrendous scar down the side of his face. Something caught her eye and she started to laugh at the artist’s morbid sense of humor. A man’s shoe lay just under the edge of the limo’s trunk. The scared man wasn’t really alone in the desert after all.

In the next exhibit she found the scene of an interior of a house. A woman stood in the background hands on her hips. A man cooked over an old wood burning stove, he was apparently her husband. The poor man was tall and thin, obviously worked to death by the shrew.

The next piece was a collage of calendars. It was quite impressive how he managed to encapsulate so much history into the piece. There was a calendar from the year JFK was assassinated the date circled in red. Little pictures of historical events speckling many of the dates.

Lucinda actually liked the Florida landscape. The beach with its white sands seemingly stretched on forever. Palm trees bent to shade a group of sunbathers as the waves licked at their feet. A dog with a Frisbee in his mouth ran along the shore, which made her a smile.

Hanging next was a peep inside a brothel. Ladies enticed men with their unmentionables and pretty smiles, with hope to make a few dollars that night. Some were dancing, others drank, a few couples locked in romantic endeavors, but all laughing and gay. All but one. At the corner window seat a woman with long golden locks stared at the moon. Her sapphire eyes held a longing, perhaps of dreams lost. 

Lucinda sighed as someone behind her made loud comments. She had lost patience with the crowd growing in number and noise. The wine no longer able to quench her thirst, she poured it into the potted tree. Lucinda glanced around as she slipped the flute with its gallery charm that dangled from the stem into her purse. On her way out, she over heard Fee-leep tell another patron the artist should have stuck to flipping burgers.

The valet brought her car and Lucinda tipped him before she drove away. On the way home, she listened to Mozart drift through the speakers. Once inside her apartment the illusion was shattered.

She toed off her shoes, then walked to the wall by her dining table. Lucinda pulled the flute from her purse and set the glass on a shelf turning the charm to dangle from the front.

She stepped back and looked at her collection. There was a glass from almost every gallery in New York and LA. Since the move to California, Lucinda had found the Beverly Hills posh galleries a lot of fun. It was her little escape from her mundane life as a post office clerk.

Once a month she would dress to the nines and walk among the beautiful people. Experiencing the world in their eyes for a couple of hours, tasting fine wines, foods she would never be able to afford. Walking to her bedroom Lucinda took off her dress she’d saved for six months to buy it. There were three fine gowns in her closet just for her little trips.

As she slipped on the less glamorous oversized sleep shirt, Lucinda thought about the gallery and all she had seen tonight. Her gallant night out, her name for these outings. As she rested her head on, her pillow Lucinda made note to check the listings for next month so she could plan her next gallant night.  

Part of the Blogging from A to Z Challenge 2014 

Horse Fever Horses of Ocala

Horse Fever Horses are one of my favorite things to see whenever I have to make a trek into the city of Ocala, Florida. Each year, since 2001, life-sized horse statues are painted and embellished by local artists and displayed through out the city.

Some of them are truly amazing works of art, but they aren’t just pretty to look at. The statues are on display in public locations for one year. Afterward the painted ponies are auctioned off and the money donated to local charities.

In March of 2012 the herd brought in $208,000 to benefit the Marion Cultural Alliance and 17 other local charities. In the programs time they’ve raised over one million dollars for MCA and other local charities.

Why horse statues and not something else you ask? Ocala has been dubbed the ‘Horse Capital of the World’ boasting over 900 farms and training centers for thoroughbreds.

Other cities in the US have gotten Horse Fever as well. So, the next time you see a painted horse around town check it out. It might just be a charitable thoroughbred.

For more information and an interactive map of the horses go to http://ocala.com 

Part of the Blogging from A to Z Challenge for the letter H.

You can find these three horses ....

at the ...

Downtown Square 

This beauty can be found at the Appleton Museum of Art 

A Gallant Night #FridayFlash

Lucinda stood in the gallery and sipped her wine as she gazed at the veduta. The landscape was done in earthy oils. The artist expressed great elocution in his work. As she moved on through the gallery, she found another painting. This one seemed so real, as if the man standing at the parapet could tumble out of the work.

Applause erupted as the artist raised his glass in a toast to Phillip Glazer. Pronounced fee-leep glass-a-er. The shmuck probably wasn’t even French. Lucinda had a premonition that all the artist’s efforts to impress the great critic were all a fallacy.

In her mind’s eye she could picture the review in which uppity Philip would eviscerate the young artisan. At the very least sever an artery.

With a sigh, she moved into the exhibits. Lucinda couldn’t help a quiet laugh as she passed a couple. The gentleman was trying to impress his lady friend, badly. He stood back from the painting with a distant expression. Then proclaimed that the artist was ocular. Oh yes, the young man had a vision alright. A vision of getting that girl between the sheets.

A huge landscape caught her eye. The view was from the bottom of a gorge. Near the end of the great trench was a cave, coming out of the gaping mouth was supposed to be a bear. After another sip from her flute, she decided the artist should stick to landscapes only. The bear looked more like a hamster.

Next was a classic view of the medieval hero Robin Hood. The outlaw stood in disguise lined up with the other archers. Arrow knocked ready to fly true and win the legendary contest. With a grin, she entertained the notion of being able to step into the painting and blow in his ear as he let fly. Let’s see him make that shot.

An odd coupling by the same artist the next painting held a limo in the Nevada desert. A man dressed forties gangster style stood against the side of the car. He might have been attractive but for the horrendous scar down the side of his face. Something caught her eye and she started to laugh at the artist’s morbid sense of humor. A man’s shoe lay just under the edge of the limo’s trunk. The scared man wasn’t really alone in the desert after all.

In the next exhibit she found the scene of an interior of a house. A woman stood in the background hands on her hips. A man cooked over an old wood burning stove, he was apparently her husband. The poor man was tall and thin obviously worked to death by the shrew.

The next piece was a collage of calendars. It was quite impressive how he managed to encapsulate so much history into the piece. There was a calendar from the year JFK was assassinated the date circled in red. Little pictures of historical events speckling many of the dates.

Lucinda actually liked the Florida landscape. The beach with its white sands seemingly stretched on forever. Palm trees bent to shade a group of sunbathers as the waves licked at their feet. A dog with a Frisbee in his mouth ran along the shore, which made her a smile.

Hanging next was a peep inside a brothel. Ladies enticed men with their unmentionables and pretty smiles, with hope to make a few dollars that night. Some were danced, others drank, a few couples locked in romantic endeavors but all laughing and gay. All but one. At the corner window seat a woman with long golden locks stared at the moon. Her sapphire eyes held a longing, perhaps of dreams lost. 

Lucinda sighed as someone behind her made loud comments. She had lost patience with the crowd growing in number and noise. The wine no longer able to quench her thirst she poured it into the potted tree. Lucinda glanced around as she slipped the flute with its gallery charm that dangled from the stem into her purse. On her way out, she over heard Fee-leep tell another patron the artist should have stuck to flipping burgers.

The valet brought her car and Lucinda tipped him before she drove away. On the way home, she listened to Mozart drift through the speakers. Once inside her apartment the illusion was shattered.

She toed off her shoes then walked to the wall by her dining table. Lucinda pulled the flute from her purse and set the glass on a shelf turning the charm to dangle from the front.

She stepped back and looked at her collection. There was a glass from almost every gallery in New York and LA. Since the move to California, Lucinda had found the Beverly Hills posh galleries a lot of fun. It was her little escape from her mundane life as a post office clerk.

Once a month she would dress to the nines walking among the beautiful people. Experiencing the world in their eyes for a couple of hours, tasting fine wines, foods she would never be able to afford. Walking to her bedroom Lucinda took off her dress she’d saved for six months to buy it. There were three fine gowns in her closet just for her little trips.

As she slipped on the less glamorous oversized sleep shirt, Lucinda thought about the gallery and all she had seen tonight. Her gallant night out, her name for these outings. As she rested her head on, her pillow Lucinda made note to check the listings for next month so she could plan her next gallant night.