"Neon's Obsession"
18x24 oil on canvas
available in giclee $235.
also available in prints, mugs and t-shirts


NEWS:


I have ANOTHER show in New York IN NOVEMBER! YAY!

I will post the dates soon. In the meantime check out Monkdogz Urbah Art in New York or visti their website. Say "Hi" to Bob for me.

Monkdogz Urban Art
547 West 27th Street
Chelsea, New York

http://www.monkdogz.com


If you would like me to send you an invitation please contact me via email through my website http://www.kathysart.com

"Baby Mermaid" oil on canvas

available in giclees, prints and cards



The attraction to mermaids and fairies is within us all, we want to know there is magic. There have been times in my life that their existence has been un-deniable. To some this will sound crazy. But for me to say that I did not hear giggles in the forest that came from fairies or that dragons took flight to meet me on an island, would be a lie. I suspect that things like that have happened to you too. Perhaps you were not ready and missed that dimension?

Today...let yourself free to believe

if only in secret.



"Dear Lydia Who Taught Me To Believe In Mermaids and Fairies"


Lydia
for a time
walked through the forest
Yes...I knew her once
but that was long ago

She was not a fairy
but a gift from the sea
displaced

I found her on the sand
rescued her from strangers
and from there I took her home
cared for her
never suspecting it was me who would find rescue

This mermaid
friend of mine
who in time lost her tail
adapted to her surroundings
despite her sorrow
missing of who she had been


"Someday I will go home
but for now"
she giggled
"I will gather rainbows!"
She put them in a mayonnaise jar
and later
released them on all her poems
a miracle I try to remember
whenever I miss her


With every glistening drop of water
that came down from the sky
I worried I would lose her
one day
before I felt ready

I simply could not bare it
a day that did not include her
Without her who then would I be?
I would not recognize myself

She smiled a light full of acceptance
who wouldn't love that treasure?
If I tried she always told me
Anything could be my goal

I could meet the forest
stand at an oceans door
take a breeze within my hand
fold in chocolate layers
and my cake would be most grand

She is a memory now
I took her to the sea
I kissed her cheek
picked flowers for her hair
and watched her as she swam away

It is not as sad
as I had thought that it would be
because she left me with the mayonnaise jar
and the rainbows to be freed

"The Power Within Me"

48x36 oil on canvas

available in giclees... coming soon in posters and cards! yay!



For My Birthday Give Me Art! Visions of Mermaids and Fairies, A Poem About the Creative Process.......


White canvas' and drawers full of color
brushes
clay
pencils and paper to write out my ideas
waiting for me

Inspiration
somewhere between folded memories and todays rainbow or stormy clouds
My creativity depends on my focus
I smile
I frown
I tear up and feel the pang of some ones defeat
oft times my own

Arrival at a mermaids den
flight of a nearby fairy offering her dust
Images of old masters who never knew their worth
How to books of arriving at someone else's vision
Movies of passion or tears
Fashion magazines and torn out pages of sensual poses
Fashion magazines of women who line up perfectly in a crowd
filed carefully to meet my mood

Melted, my treasures
together with music!
Ahhh music my muse!
Play it as loud as you can without alarming the neighbors
Feel the base and the pounding of musical notes as they meet their objective
Know the lyrics and sing to the top of my lungs
Yes sing!
All the magic around me is ready

Then dance!
Dance free on the sand of the closest beach I can find
Dance on fresh mown grass
feel the blood rush to my head
Dance like a fairy under flowers and leaves
Dance swimming swiftly just like a mermaid
Feel the wetness of her travel
close my eyes
yes, I am there!

So Swim!
All the fish adorned with their jewels of color
and the dolphins of yore
the sea lions chime in
and together we feel our artful journey

Love
all the beauty around me
breath it in
make it my pleasure to visit anytime I choose

I take out my pen and write all my childlike adventures
I write and it saves me
encourages me
protects me from my own self sometimes
gets it all out for all to see or to hide in my closet

I write
my friend, my pleasure this pen of mine
My companion from whomever the words are birthed

and then....
I cry
I cry because I lust for my arrival to that space
that space that dismisses criticism
that ache
I cry because it seems only inches away
at any given moment my teacup might fall

So I YELL
I YELL at the incoming traffic
floods of eyes showing disapproval
and I YELL at my own struggle

Turning around
I see me

I pick my battles and I run
I feel the breeze in my hair
sweat falling from my head to my neck that confirms my travel
and I feel the rush
because I run as far as I can

I lie flat on the floor
quiet
still and quiet I listen to the sound of my own breath
I try to think of nothing
no false prisons that lock out creative souls or the inner child
I think of nothing

Silence enters and I am calm
once again

Birds
the wind through the tree
my cat licks my face
I open my eyes

White canvas' and drawers full of color........waiting for me

19 August 2006

"She could Almost Touch Them"
18x22 graphite on paper


------------------------------------------------

A Poem About the Creative Process:


19 August 2006


"For My Birthday Give Me Art! Visions of Mermaids and Fairies, A Poem About the Creative Process"


White canvas' and drawers full of color
brushes
clay
pencils and paper to write out my ideas
waiting for me

Inspiration
somewhere between folded memories and todays rainbow or stormy clouds
My creativity depends on my focus
I smile
I frown
I tear up and feel the pang of some ones defeat
oft times my own

Arrival at a mermaids den
flight of a nearby fairy offering her dust
Images of old masters who never knew their worth
How to books of arriving at someone else's vision
Movies of passion or tears
Fashion magazines and torn out pages of sensual poses
Fashion magazines of women who line up perfectly in a crowd
filed carefully to meet my mood

Melted my treasures
together with music!
Ahhh music my muse!
Play it as loud as you can without alarming the neighbors.
Feel the base and the pounding of musical notes as they meet their objective
Know the lyrics and sing to the top of my lungs
Yes sing!
All the magic around me is ready

Then dance!
Dance free on the sand of the closest beach I can find
Dance on fresh mown grass
feel the blood rush to my head
Dance like a fairy under flowers and leaves
Dance swimming swiftly just like a mermaid
Feel the wetness of her travel
close my eyes
yes, I am there!

So Swim!
All the fish adorned with their jewels of color
and the dolphins of yore
the sea lions chime in
and together we feel our artful journey

Love
all the beauty around me
breath it in
make it my pleasure to visit anytime I choose

I take out my pen and write all my childlike adventures
I write and it saves me
encourages me
protects me from my own self sometimes
gets it all out for all to see or to hide in my closet

I write
my friend, my pleasure this pen of mine
My companion from whomever the words are birthed

and then....
I cry
I cry because I lust for my arrival to that space
that space that dismisses criticism
that ache
I cry because it seems only inches away
at any given moment my teacup might fall

So I YELL
I YELL at the incoming traffic
floods of eyes showing disapproval
and I YELL at my own struggle

Turning around
I see me


I pick my battles and I run
I feel the breeze in my hair
sweat falling from my head to my neck that confirms my travel
and I feel the rush
because I run as far as I can

I lie flat on the floor
quiet
still and quiet
I listen to the sound of my own breath
I try to think of nothing
no false prisons that lock out creative souls or the inner child
I think of nothing

Silence enters and I am calm
once again

Birds
the wind through the tree
my cat licks my face
I open my eyes

White canvas' and drawers full of color........waiting for me

"Hood"
Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
20x18 oil on canvas
(from the "Passion Series")

$400.

Artist's note: He sees; he thinks; he resolves and waits for a clearing. He is a man of wisdom.


This painting is hangeing at Aloha Outpost in Pahoa, Hawaii

------------------------------------------------------

On ezinearticles.com today:

September 1996

"Aloha" said the male voice over the phone.

"Hello?" I said with anticipation. "Is this Dennis Magnusen?"

"Yes"

"Did you graduate from Such and Such High School in 1965?" I asked.

"Yes" said the voice hesitantly.

"This is Kathy"

"Oh Sweetheart!"

He knew exactly who I was. Our story unfolds from there, inside a little window in time that gave us the miracle of a second chance.

1964

When I was fifteen, I noticed a tall blond head amidst the crowds of non people in my high school. I would look for him at breaks or lunchtime, see where he was and who he was with. His 6'2 1/2" frame with lovely blue eyes and calm demeanor my reward to glance upon from a distance. He was usually with another girl or a group of friends. I noticed him then and have felt my eyes and heart searching him out ever since. I was a very shy girl with no confidence about who I was or my place in circles of clubs and established friendships around me. I was born with the spirit of art inside me. It was my hideaway as well as my best friend. My Mother always told me I was pretty. I never felt sure if that was an asset or a hindrance. I was and am still blond with green eyes of Scandinavian decent. Scandinavian's tend to be reserved yet moody which fits me well. I never considered high school to be a highlight of my life, rather an intrusion into my underdeveloped psyche. I was still playing hop scotch in my front yard after school. My bed was filled with dolls that I still found delight in combing their hair and changing their clothes. I was a young 15 with pressures around me to grow up and become a young lady.

The above is an excerpt from a book I am writing about finding my long lost love. Below is a song I wrote years before finding him. I always loved him.

BTW, I am looking for a publisher/agent....whatever helps me get my story out.

"In You"

a song:

1)
In you... I saw a vision fleeting by,
no tale nor reason to de-nigh
a dream so dim
yet waiting to begin.

2)
In you...the ships could sail behind your eyes
encase a world or hasten time.
The color blue...in you
casts another hue.

3)
And you... escaped my grasp
I cannot tell
If all is lost I wish you well
another time
where stories never rhymed.

4)
In you... I saw a vision fleeting by
in songs, in notes, in passers by,
a stories end
no longer to pretend
in you.

"Suntouched"
24x48 oil on canvas


4 August 2006

Early in the morning
I picked honeysuckle from the edge of our yard
right before I walked down to that house
the one that burned to the ground last night
I smelled my branch of fragrance as I stood before it's ruin
Eyes from a calico cat met mine
She seemed to still expect breakfast in her bowl
But not from me
from the people that no longer had a home

Ahhh such a sight in the sky last night
Loud bangs as chemicals from a drug lab met fire
Cars quickly spun away
I bet they were surprised
Was everyone OK?
No news yet today.

The dogs from across the street yelped
as they watched me in my query
I wondered what they thought last night
still tied up
like always
as their owner leaves them each day

I locked up my own dog and two cats
safely
in the garage
Four fire trucks and their entourage
rushing down the road
too late
It seems no one called 911
Not for a long long time
'Til the house and what was inside
was almost gone.
This same house
and the people inside
wasted every second and moment of their lives
brewing up a substance that put us all in jeopardy
And this morning
standing in front of that house
that was
I still hope
that everyone is alright

One of the tied up dogs gets loose
He comes and sniffs my aura
Not to worry little friend
I am no threat to you
He cowers none the less
Too many days of being tied to a post

There is an elderly couple
living right next door to that now gone house
I hear the man in this back yard
running a weed whacker
Seems he was not affected by the glow
from night before

One last glance
wondering exactly what happened
I still did not know
not the people
who were only passers by
who hosted a constant flow of short visitors
Such a life
I can only wonder why
There but poor fortune
you or I

I sniff my honeysuckle branch once again
Say good bye to the dog at my feet
and the cat looking for it's bowl
Perhaps the elderly couple will take pity
Maybe they or I

At my gate I am met by my own little pets
A house still standing
and my husband
asleep
inside.

"Solace and Consolation"

chaos and distortion
I met my motivation for recovery
'twas bolted on the doorway
I muttered 
don't bother waiting
or complain of irritations 
I paint over all gilded cages

I force my fingers to make a fist
but oh
they refuse to bend
however will I recover?

yet there beside the light
cheese and wine are served 
what a lovely opening...
the doorway I mean
the one with bolted breaths
you remember that show?

I stood there in my mind
my compliments to the shadow
red was not on my palette
I reached for other colors 
they simply refused their mark

I will take your objections 
clearly 
I will point towards sleeping giants
wrap up their fingers
just like mine
and wait 

Twist your arm 
hold a hammer with your muted hand
there is nothing charming about this wall I said
there is noting here to keep me amused
I am board with it
I want to say I am finished 
and have you agree

pastel 
your breath I mean
what could you have been thinking?
I have all these boxes still
portions set in a line
put your two hands close together
and pretend them to be mine
you might be disappointed
there is no solace
no consolation  in getting it right
no matter how soft the colors return to you