The Sand Of Time Move Ever Onward.

The Sand Of Time Move Ever Onward

There is nothing worse than growing older. Actually that is not at all true, there are a great many people lying in the local graveyard who would happily change places with me. But as each year passes more and more I become aware of the passage of time. Forty years ago I attended the marriage of friends of my wife. The other day we were all gathered to celebrate their forty years of marriage. There walking across the dance floor was the beautiful bride, well in fact the daughter of the bride who looked almost the carbon copy of her mother.

It was thoughts like this that filled my head as I painted this acrylic abstract. I could have painted an hour glass with the sand dropping through it, and maybe that is another painting for another time. Instead I painted what you see in, “The Sands of Time Move Ever Onward.” I tried to capture the idea of sand and differing ages of people and stages of life disappearing into the distance and oblivion.

Painted on acrylic paper and mounted behind glass with a stressed gold frame I think it says what I intended but I would be happy to hear your thoughts.

This Blog is linked to my other.  The Invisible Man

The Beauty of Age

The Beauty of Age

I still look in wonder at that drawing that Barbra did of the roots of the trees I pictured. She saw in those roots exactly what it was I saw the day I took the picture, and managed to convey it with pencil.

Today in my other blog I was talking about how age can often affect us, but we must not let it diminish us. Sadly youth often only lets us see in others what we see with the eyes. When they see me out running they do not see the hundred and more marathons that lie behind the runner. All they see is an older man who they could run faster than, if they had a mind to.

I have today added another marvellous picture or two of the roots of trees. I am not sure they would make the same beautiful painting that Barbra created with the other one, but let me tell you above these roots were two magnificent trees. Without these old and gnarled fingers and their years of age they would be just two more trees.

Art has the power that few other things have of letting us see something that others do not. The inner being of nature and of people.

I have also once again shown you a painting I did of an older man. I hope like me you see his inner wit and wisdom. I will leave you to guess who he is.

This blog is linked to my other.Now What Was It I Came Up Here For?