Monday, May 11, 2015

Post Mother's Day walk-in special

May 11, 2015, 9:30am EDT

I hate to waste anything if there is a use for it. I also hate to run out of a color that I've mixed up whenever I am painting. It is rather difficult to mix things up the same way twice. The solution is to mix up enough and then some, just to be sure. This leaves some excess. Rather than toss the paint I've been saving cardboard from things like cereal boxes, cracker boxes, and the like. I prime them on the front and back with gesso and add some collage elements. Voila! It isn't archival material which means that you would want to tell your grandchildren to tell their grandchildren to enjoy a painting of this fashion while it lasts.

So for this week only, the “After Mother's Day Sale” here at Loveday Studio, for one week only, I have a selection of ten of these works of art that I'm offering for $50.00 (USD) to the walk-in traffic. Studio visits are the best way to buy art after all. To those that would like to participate via postal parcel, the more postage you add to the amount, the faster it gets there. What that means in studio talk is that if you send me $50.00 from Siberia, I'll splash some paint on a post card, sign it, and send it to you via air mail. Specials offerings are hard to translate into international situations. The primary targeted audience is local traffic after all.

Not wanting to bore you with hardcore sales talk, here's a poem I wrote when I was 18 years old. My poetry isn't free either. It will cost you a moment of gratitude at the very least. Love.



She smiles
As her little boy grows bigger each day
With bird nests and bees
With rainbows and trees
With each cut and scratch
He grows up

It was she
That carried him inside
And nursed him with milk
From her breasts
It was her
That comforted him
Late at night
She; the mother

When he meets a young woman
Pangs of sorrow strikes deep
But this is the way it must be
So she smiles
Her job well done
She brought another child
Into the world
To go on
Out into his own life
She smiles

She does not understand
This man
When he does things
That hurts him or others
She does not know why
He does these things
But she knows
He is a man
So she smiles
For he must do this
To be a man

She smiles
As the little boy
Comes in
“Look at the flower, Grandma!”
Her son gave her joy
Now, a job well done.
She smiles.

Oliver Loveday © 1971

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