BAREBRUSH ARTIST OF THE MONTH~ I WON! THANKS TO ALL MY FRIENDS

BAREBRUSH ARTIST OF THE MONTH~ I WON! THANKS TO ALL MY FRIENDS!

THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!

Art on Barebrush VOTE FOR ME!! #19

VOTE FOR ME!! #19
~~*~~
HI! My painting has been selected by Marina Hadley for Curator's Choice. Voting is on your left~ Would you do me a favor and VOTE FOR ME! "#19" ? That's my painting! Vote for "Curators Choice" and then again for "My Fav" both "#19".. OK? THANK YOU SO MUCH! ~Kathy

http://www.barebrush.com/NOTM/Archives/NOTM2009_11.php


Art~ PLEASE VOTE for ME~Vote #19 "Curators Choice" &again for "My Fav" both "#19".. OK? THANK YOU SO MUCH! ~Kathy

"Young Girls Who Die Too Soon - Remembering Terry "

This is a little watercolor I did for HayHouse Inc. that is in Anne Wilson Schaef's "Meditations for Women Who Do Too Much" CARDS. I am the illustrator of all of those cards. I considered my own two daughters as I painted the one above. ~Kathy

"Young Girls Who Die Too Soon - Remembering Terry "

Her name was written on a stone
Terry
in a light pink shade of sadness
for she was a lovely
but very lonely 
girl
who had passed away in Spring
so many years ago now.

I guess one could say
that pink
had turned to blue
and  in the early mornings
when the sun
was not yet seeping though my windows
I heard her chanting
with all those tunes
that had turned into
a purple
hue.
And me 
feeling the light 
that fell through shades of wonder
gave in
to sorrow. 

Who would think to shred a blossom
before it could be opened?
It felt like that 
whenever I missed her 
and thought of her passing
on.
Sad tokens of roses and deserted vases
I will forever remember them
in closets tied fast 
to memories 
and a young girls potential dreams
and the gift of untitled songs.

Who would tread on that path?
The one that a girl would know
and possibly find herself in?
Not me
nor you?
Not even a startled lark
would paddle that row.

I wear a hat on formal occasions
just like my grandma used to do.
I decided later
after my last gallery opening
it was indeed an most appropriate
fashion statement
for me
to do.

Within my insecurities
I measured it
that hat
so its band fit
making me feel 
as my grandma would insist upon
well groomed.

And yes
indeed
 it was quite fitting
blue bonnet
in fashion I wore it 
in honor of a young girl 
who was never to meet a history
for she
was only doomed. 
Never to know gallery openings
at all
nor paintings
that filled a room.

I cannot count the stanzas
to poems that I write
not anymore
no
but I fill a notebook and stroke its moods
that my own mind
explores.
And
into this gloom felt
it all
so overwhelmingly
intrudes.

Oft times people strike a mood
and let me say here now
that in this tale
that stride 
does indeed
include
"you".
YOU made me feel too sad
and 
too alone
and wanting for a girl 
to rise
despite her passing
long ago.
And knowing she was not singing
anymore 
beyond 
a larks glistening eyes
or inside anyones heart
but mine
and maybe
her sister
mother and father.
I felt distracted
by you
and your demanding
unknowing
mimes
despite the eulogy
time signs.

I think sometimes that I might not surface
again
and I'll be that girl who died
oh
but then
sinking into my pillow
late at night
I reflect
knowing
that she had passed
in front of me
ahh yes
dying eyes.
So I charm my memories
despite a damsels 
last
pitiful
shrinking 
sigh.

In the morning
I find
that I am opening my eyes
again
to meet whatever that day plans.
Routine takes me ore
just like everyone else
just like everyone else...
except
maybe
a young girl I have known
except
a young girl walking
beyond
a rules exclusive ride
who meets me when I think of her
and cautions me
to walk beyond the sadness
of her passing 
and my own
sorrowful 
eyes.

Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
30 August 2009
Copyright 2009

Sculpture "Bleeding Wings 3" ~Art in Progress

Sculpture "Bleeding Wings 3" ~Art in Progress.

This piece is drying still as I prepare to photograph "Bleeding Wings 4"

These pieces can be found on one of my websites:

http://www.kathyostman-magnusen.com

Jesse Cook Europa HQ (videoclip)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uoFPNy0JVQI

"Leonardo da Vinci - Scientist & Inventor Sculpt His Way Far Beyond Brilliant Conclusions"

"Aftermath" 48x60x2 oil on canvas, Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

This is my time, anyone's time, to reach beyond what was understood yesterday, yes, reach beyond brilliant conclusions even. This is the day and perfect time. Stretch your mind as did Leonardo da Vinci and many famous artists have.

TURN ON THE MUSIC VIDEO TO READ MY POEM BELOW... SMILE



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vTxKmv9PrD0&feature=fvw

"Leonardo da Vinci - Scientist & Inventor Sculpt His Way Far Beyond Brilliant Conclusions"

There were melodies past the rhythm of the expected
that caused my heart to echo applauds.
I clapped my hands together for I'd found my space there.
A space that I'd been longing for.

I pulled off my mask
and all my mental clothes
felt the freedom of deliverance
embraced my zeal for creativity and my own being
to be known.

I will not be contained I screamed
Hear me!
Seducing the blaze that strokes the vintage stranger
near ignored.
Let me explore artists of yore
Warhol, Picasso, Klimt, Modigliani
Michelangelo
my reaching and reasoning being.
I love their passion.

Matisse, remind me of the colors and set my instincts in focus.
Help me feel the pigments with the eagerness of a lover.

Let me call on Leonardo da Vinci
scientist and inventor
sculpting his way beyond brilliant conclusions.
The depth of him
unquenchable curiosity
botanist, architect, mathematician,
musician.
Illegitimate son of a peasant woman
back in the day when those roots
did not bring one
too many dimensions.

I will not be contained I scream
looking at da Vinci and where my own life
should
or could
be.
Ah Leonardo da Vinci what a mentor
dear muse you are.

This is my time
anyone's time
to reach beyond what was understood yesterday
yes, reach beyond brilliant conclusions even.
This is the day and perfect time.
The acquisition of knowledge
there
before us all.
How monumental
stunning and how truly amazing
this road
glorious opportunity
there directly in front of all of us.

Copyright 2009
by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

"Bleeding Wings"

I just posted my new sculpture to my "Primal Art" website. My other website it tame and child friendly.. this one? Nope.

Anyway... check out my new work:


http://www.kathyostman-magnusen.com/Kathy_Ostman-Magnusen_Art/ART_IN_PROGRESS__SCULPTURE.html

Traveling Children

Robert Miles - Children, Song was popular in Europe in mid 90's

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Rz4p5MeJJ8

"There Are Children in the Grave Who Used to Laugh and Sing"

"Little Girl" 18x20 oil on canvas

Children are the saddest casualty of any war or conflict. If you listen you can hear them calling out.

"There Are Children in the Grave Who Used to Laugh and Sing"

There are children in the grave
who used to laugh
and sing
and go to school
like normal children do.
But now
there are children in the grave.
Patriotic songs ring out
for men play games of war
and power.

Hiding under the covers
alone time
trying not to hear their cries
that no longer make a sound
and yet
screaming
continually
if you pause long enough
to hear.
Like the saddest symphony
a thousand instruments
objecting to the end
heard
silent.

I listen for it still
as reluctantly as you
and wear those colors
blue
keeping them tightly clutched
inside my hand.
Passers by
sometimes forget
that kind of emptiness
but we won't
right?

Right to count the storms
yet oh
I wish this one
was over.
Take even steps
mark the time
number our falls
stand still in those permanent spaces
ready
courage to speak out
against a young child's rival.

The intensions of the determined
crush against such memories
demanding muteness.
But oh
we should always hesitate
before moving on.
We don't need to see the wind
to understand the light around us
confessions come easiest
when impulsive.
Yes
we should always honor the voices
of those children
who never got a chance to sing
their songs
as loud as we could
if we chose to
before our life
was gone.

There are children in the grave
who used to laugh
and sing
and go to school
like normal children do.
But now
there are children
in the grave.

Copyright 2009
by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

"I Was Meant to Fly Higher Than My Imagination Sometimes Allows -Higher Than Any Fairy is 'Allowed'"

"For Isa" 18x24 oil on canvas



Soo... turn on the music/Utube if you haven't already.. It makes for nice ambiance for my poem below.

"I Was Meant to Fly Higher Than My Imagination Sometimes Allows -Higher Than Any Fairy is 'Allowed'"
~~*~~

She tried to imagine herself flying
but she couldn't
only fairies can fly that high.

Blending spirits in that moment...
It is an unmistakable journey
one that starts under the sea
greeted by discoveries
never imagined before.

Beams of light
from the diamonds off the water
for a rainbow to meet
and thus
a mermaid is greeted
by a magical dragons
undying sigh
melted
to a greeting.
It is not impossible to sing
those magical
nights.

And if you did not know
how far a dream can measure
how far a longing
can go
let me tell you
it is
without a doubt
very
very
far
past the doubting heart.

Magic should never be measured
not it you want to save a heart.
Never try to bind a worry
of a latent measure
for newness to be met
beyond the thought of who we can be
or of who we are in fact
are.

I can fly as high as I long to
and if you think high enough
my captain
my darling
so
my restless prince
can you.
Come close to where we are
its very close.

I want to reach that circumference
I trust
and feel the height of it
one bleeding intake
of my breath at a time.

There are circles that never end
and within that measure
we hold onto hope
waiting beyond contentment
beyond what is expected
and in that miracle
find not one single second
of rest.

Mercy should not take pity
never.

And past today
let me feel every circumstance
and feel the ultimate
overwhelmed
unharnessed in forever un-groomed.
Let me realize my own spark
holding out
forever holding out
past the night
beyond what is sighted here
beyond the prince
groomed.

Let me climb that high
let me be the beam
of my own light
and never stop trying to absorb
every single beat.
Music coming
save me
save me
forever past these days
and their bountiful
release.

Let the sky be higher
than I might ever imagine
let me at least
absorb its
reason for being
and my life
yet un-savory
but still testing.

Don't let me go
the fairy in me spoke
for I am in longing
and in this state of mind
hold out
never pass this moment.
Let me understand
my own wings.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
Copyright 2008

"I Met a Mystic Along a Dusty Pathway - I Had Never Seen Such Magic"

We often judge ourselves harsher than needed. Sometimes the focus should be more on the beauty that is all around us. It is such a dear and simple thing to embrace magic.

"I Met a Mystic Along a Dusty Pathway - I Had Never Seen Such Magic"

There was a mystic
along the pathway
I saw him from a distance.
It became clear as I approached him
that I
was in the face of truth.

My eyes blurred
mixed with tears
for I had never seen magic
up close before.
I had never embraced the truth
in such pure form
as that afternoon
there on a simple dirt road.

I could not speak.
I could barely think really
it was a day that felt too bright
to look upon
and so
I did indeed
look away from him
as he began to pass me by.

He didn't pass me by though.
No
he stood directly in front of me.
I had nowhere to look
but up.
Up to see his eyes on mine.

Feelings of being found out
my plight
my woes
my insecurities
about a forever meaning
he seemed to spy them all.
I was
to me at least
exposed.

What is it that causes us to spill all
when confronted with pure honesty?
Embracing it seemed past logic
it encompassed a certain instinct
one that reels in misgivings about grace.

My will was overpowered
not because I had been beaten into submission
not because proof had glared at me
causing me to succumb.
No
It was a holiness that filled the air
a rainbow on my skin
and a dance
that lead past the skyline.

What I expected from his eyes
seeing me
seeing through me
was a book of rules...
Now you do this
and no more of that.

But the Mystic
only gave me an empty pages
and said
Find your own way
and with every step you take
remember your place in this world
for it is just as holy
as the dawning of a recognition
a removed veil
that reveals the pureness of beauty itself.
Open your eyes
and see the light of creativity.
It has been present all the while
you simply lost your way
and stopped looking for it.
Open your eyes
for a host of elegance displayed.

I could not accept such generosity.
But what about the list
of things that are wrong with me
I don't see it within these pages.

There is no need to write that down
he calmly said
those things seem to burn within you
on their own
you already know your frailties.
Focus on the lovely things
know when others need your help
in seeing those things too.
Take of your shoes
if someone needs them
and you'll be fine.

I wanted to fall to the ground
kiss his feet
but in the very moment
that I accepted his words
he was...
gone.

I thought of Rumi then
of that quote I had rehearsed so many times:

"Today, like every other day, we wake up empty and frightened. Don't open the door to the study and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground." ~ Rumi

And there
along the roadside
I did kiss the ground.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
copyright 2009

Music for my Poetry

Free Coloring Page From Kathy-Happy Day All You Flower Fairies & Mermaid Fans

Double click image to enlarge, then print out.

You may feel free to download this to color or whatever else you like.. just NOT for "RESALE" This is a copyrighted 2009 image and may only be used for personal pleasure.

Happy day to you, Kathy

"Do Flower Fairies Die? And If They Do - Is There a Special Place For Them in Heaven?"

"Orchid" photo by Dennis G Magnusen Copyright 2009

Do you fret about fairies? Worry about them and what do they do all Winter long? Do they succumb to the coldness? Lastly most pitifully, does a flower faery die?

"Do Flower Fairies Die? And If They Do - Is There a Special Place For Them in Heaven?"

Do flower fairies die?
If so..
where do they go when they pass
from this life?
Is there a special place in heaven?
A gathering of natures gifts
that never falls asleep
a harvests destiny?

Or is it that a faery in your garden
truly
never dies at all?
Is it possible that a pixie elf
rests in the Winter
till it's time
to come back out?

I believe it in this moment
that all faery princesses
do indeed
forever live.

Once you decide that a faerie lives
on
tis no longer a legend
or a mythological dream
its a matter of fact
a most beautiful
resounding
belief.

Embracing all the miracles
of each flowers gifts
touched by early morning dew
diamonds from the sky
shining brilliantly true
look on
believing.
What else is there to do?

Glorious beings
folklore told
magical creatures
cradle the gifts
of life
and all its miraculous
treasures
stored.

And despite all disbelievers
a flowers majesty
will always shine on
brilliantly true
for me
and yes
ever faithfully
for you
too.

Dear flower nymphs
make it through
the Fall and Winter of life
so
considering their resilience
why not me
why not you?

Goddesses of rainbows praying
fore Springtime miracles
pick it up
respond to the earths glory
appreciate their seedlings
despite their struggle
a prayer set forth
holy.
Watching as Fall
covers Forget-Me- Nots up
as Winter sets each petal to rest
it is for a faery
an acceptable
upset.
Springtime brings it all on again
and the mornings refreshed
with Mother Nature's
dance
and a whimsical angels song.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
Copyright 2009

ABOUT Kathy Ostman-Magnusen: I am an artist, represented by Monkdogz Urban Art, New York. ORIGINAL ART may be purchased through Monkdogz: http://www.monkdogz.com/chelseagallery/artistart/Magnusen/artist_magnusen.htm
FREE ART GIFTS 'suitable for children' plus prints, giclees, cards, available on my website: http://www.kathysart.com

~~*~~

A Fairies Bloodletting- Did She Deserve it? Or is the Bloodletting Ceremony For You?

Looking to self.. where are we within any given picture? We all have insecurities. Perhaps YOU will see yourself in this story.

Such a fairy
such a sacrifice
a bloodletting
would be her demise?

She stood outside the doorway
looking in.
If she could have
she would have let those roses
bleed
to their pitiful death.
A bloodletting of an infant soul
heartaches till now
not fully disclosed.

Whimsical angel
drown out all those intrusions
scissors that cut away
well meaning
but distant
compared to other keyholes
villain moles.

Stairways usually lead to
somewhere.
Bandages usually cover wounds.
Fairies
can drown in a drop of dew
if you aren't watching
carefully.

Who sees?

Everyone gets lost
from their own selves
once in awhile
pieces of memories
stored
come predictably.

Clouds
exposing leaves on trees
all
most pitifully
dried out.

Slipping under the surface
of any painting you choose
it is there in the artists deliverance
because...
she sees
"YOU".

So let me paint your portrait
will you?
Create a setting
past the rhythm of routine
now that we've exposed YOU
my caring queen
past the shroud
clarity set
truth
aroused?

Surprised of the turn
about?

Aroused are you?

Past any fairy
you stumbled upon
broken
there between your breaths
she and I
found
YOU.

Bloodletting
not yet through.

So stop and think
at this very second
reflect on WHO YOU
are.

Afraid...
are you?
A bit exposed now?

YOU wonder
saying
this is stupid
I thought this was a story about a fairy
bleeding
this is NOT about ME.

You've been caught!
YOU
sorting out lost ambitions
stifling your soul
waiting
for neglected days
to come
out
waiting for them
to unfold.

Surprised...
are you?
That all of this is not about a fairy
at all..
it is not about her bloodletting
it is all about
YOU.
It is indeed a trick
designed to pull
YOU
helplessly
out.

I saw your last night
wondered about your words
misspoken
maybe?
Yes.. you have been
found
out.

And all I have to say to you
at this point is
lets gather all those pieces of what you left
behind
that you have
in the back of your mind
been crying about.
Right?

Time to paint a new portrait
self
coming out.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
copyright 2009

"A Goddess of the Moon Defied the Stars en Route and Killed the Handsome Sailor"

FIRST TURN ON THE MUSIC... TIS SUCH A LOVELY SONG.




"A Goddess of the Moon Defied the Stars en Route and Killed the Handsome Sailor"

She captured hope from his eyes
goddess of the moon
defying stars en route
dreams that might come true
this damsel demanded his last
living
breath.

It was not kind
a siren that stole his soul
his being
unprotected
unprepared
and yet
she did
what she had lusted for.

Left behind along a sandy shoreline
holding only
tokens of a memory
a princess of the land
held scraps of paper
in her wanting hands.
Later to pasted in a notebook
a boatman's remnants
one day
most carelessly
to be tossed
most irreverently
away.
Down the line of life
a stranger who would not discern
such a delicate story
a diary had procured.
Lost love
and memories
that faded
long before
within a beauties
pitiful song and lore.

Such a seaman was he
brave to meet the storms
traveling in a long boat
cross the waves of majesty.
He called upon a mermaids legend
to find a most perfect pearl
for his lovely land beauty
who
upon his return
would marry her.

Unsuspecting
that mariner unprotected
did not realize a mermaid
could be vengeful.
And thus
upon seeing such a handsome bo
that water maiden
fell in love with the princess' hero.
Siren of the the sea
meticulously
planned to take him captive
to meet another
seaweed laced
destiny.

Unaware
He could only hope for magical visions
in the depth of the ocean
where a gem from the waters
might be
for his princess in waiting
at home in a castle
so soft and lovely.

Refrains from protection
twas a heros way
never realizing jealous hearts
power unknown
can take
a sailors breath
away.

Poor pitiful sea farer
all he could do
was lie down naked
hoping the moonlight would have pity
on yesterdays
yearnings
digressions
forgiveness
on his mind
but ohhh
so sadly
not in time.

Don't let your dreams fade
lover of mine
called out the princess
from a grassy hillside
toward the whales
and the waves
the unknown and beyond
uselessly defied
fore deep in her heart
past gates of promise
she knew
her lover
did die.

Down into the deep
pulled by a sea vixen
who had decided to take care
of her own ambitions.
Brave seafarer was he
remembered by a princess
who reluctantly met
a most unwanted
destiny.

By Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
Copyright 2009

The image is one is my paintings from my "ke ala o Pele" series.. it is 30x40 and sorry but I can't remember the title at the moment. It is available through Monkdogz Urban Art http://www.monkdog.com

"My Tiny Angel Has Gone Off Flying - Leaving Me With a Jealous Heart"

"Euphoria" 36x48 oil on canvas

"My Tiny Angel Has Gone Off Flying - Leaving Me With a Jealous Heart"

Every other angel
seems to get it right
every other tiny angel...
just not mine.
We'll have to have a word or two
once she stops dreaming.

As if she didn't know it
there are strings
attached to everything.
Just about everything
wears a coat.

Ward off the hunter
he comes to victimize
every loose end
except his own.
Alone
foolish to own that I'm fragile
even though my angels gone
a flying.

Mascara runs down weeping eyes
stupid eyes that cry
who simply don't understand
their tears
can be waterproofed
and defied.

Deep down
I've always loved empty cages
reminding me
of angels who capture sparks
and learn to fly off.
A pattern of flashes
once kept on leashes
released.

Wheels continue spinning
for the aimless
a primary defense of the queen's gambit
of trading off stars
that shine too much
lest she lose her stage.

So I sift through moments
of unrehearsed lines
I'd never hold her to them anyway
oh angel
of mine.

Everyone's garden seems trimmed
nowhere to hide a wanting fairy
no room for boxes
of secrets
no where to shelter hidden meanings
tied to strings.

I've planned an invitation
going to send it
by a doves wing
fore although my tiny angel is far away
I'll embroider her memory
and attach it to all my songs.

Yes
everything wears a coat
and everyone understands
a certain long lost tiny angel
and empty pockets.
Despite what people tell you
and no matter how loudly
there are fairies
who burst forth from their cages
leaving a jealous heart
alone.

05 May 2009
by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
Copyright 2009

"Pixie Myths - Fairies Finding Their Way to Fantasy Stories"

Pixie myths visited...Above is a little watercolor sketch of mine... it seems to go well with this tale. Once in awhile my splendid little pixie fairy surprises me. Whenever I think she has disappeared or perhaps pixie myths never existed at all, there she stands, as tiny as Tinkerbell, right there before my disbelieving eyes, offering me glimpses into her inspiration.

"Pixie Myths - Fairies Finding Their Way to Fantasy Stories"

Beyond the meadow
I did discover Pixie myths
fairies finding their way to fantasy stories
mythical little flower creatures of folklore
enchanting me
ahh such a lovely celtic dream.

My personal pixie darling
in a Victorian setting
sat beside me one glorious afternoon.
We shared the day and peeled off
the most delightful giggles.
On que
my attentive little darling
being a dear little audience
listened
as I shared my fantasies
legends of mermaids
ships that set sail
on Scandinavian seas
and the sailors
who had been kidnapped
because of a mermaids undying love.
Legends, pixie myths,
real flower faeries
whimsical angels
blessing the day.

I recited on...
from books once stored away
and forgotten
of princes on white horses
rescuing the sleeping beauty
awakened by a kiss.

Whenever I paused to sip some tea
or take a nibble from a bit of chocolate
she brought me
my pointed ear companion
reminded me
in song
that magic is never all that far away.
Ahh my dear pixie fairy friend.

Finding a spot online
I showed my darling elf
a certain fairies.com
Reading the last page
we chirped like birds
lured into a little pixie house
that we could cut out
fold together
and tie with ribbons of satin.
What a fun discovery!

Once in awhile
to this day
my splendid little pixie fairy
surprises me.
Whenever I think she has disappeared
or perhaps never existed at all
there she stands
as tiny as Disney's Tinkerbell
right there before my disbelieving eyes
offering me glimpses into her inspiration.
and so I take them
make little drawings of descriptions she shares
and put them in a box of koa
where all my childhood memories
and pixie myths
are stored.

04 May 2009
by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

"Mental Drawings of Demons Spinning Their Evil Ways Sometimes Bare Gifts of New Inventions"

"DNA" 30x40 reverse plexi-glass by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
Collection of Candy and Larry Wood

TURN ON THE MUSIC:



"Mental Drawings of Demons Spinning Their Evil Ways Sometimes Bare Gifts of New Inventions"

The back and forth of good and bad
the sifting of our errors
how and where do we find our revival
of clear intentions?

Mental drawings of demons of the heart
They make the wheels spin their evil ways
tragically.
Yet sometimes
despite the wounded closet
there is a lovely token.
The gift of understanding
magically bringing revelations
we had not recognized
before the sleeping princess. 
Waking that beauty
no further breeding of dragons
occurs without clear planning.

Sometimes we conquer that dark side
spend time considering the view from top of the hill.
Watch sunsets
consider mythical monsters
and meet what might become bad decisions
head on
with an opposite approach
and our own fire-breathing tongues.

And then?
The wheel spins again
symbols of chaos within our hands
new inventions
new attractions toward depression
monsters in the closet
intimidating czar
despite the ones we conquered ore.

We are a fragile being
yet resilient.
Despite the temptations
the quest for new ideas
roar.
Despite the lust of new ideas
that might disable the heavens angles
we continue on
reveling in new inventions.

Do it... it's only just round the corner,
one new experience, 
one new insight, 
one new innovation, 
one new discovery
designs created from what is possible.

Painting our lives
drawings of scorpions
biting their own tail
or disabling objectionable disabilities thereof.
There is room for safe breathing
we are safe within the IDEA
of creativity
meeting the ways of right
or wrong
fault or reason.

There within the birds that cover our eyes
we decipher
and meet our own glorious
newly uncovered
finds of delight.

We are not that many steps away
from tiny whimsical angels
that remind us of
real life and our own breathing.
There is safety in that call.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
22 April 2009
copyright 2009

The painting above was done as per the commissions requirements, which were personal details of the clients life, which is why the reference to DNA.


Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
Free Art: http://www.kathysart.com
Primal Series:
http://www.kathyostman-magnusen.com
Represented by:
Monkdogz Urban Art, New York
http://www.monkdogz.com
Monkdogz Kathy Ostman-Magnusen Inventory:
http://www.monkdogz.com/chelseagallery/inventory_magnusen.htm

"Mental Drawings of Demons Spinning Their Evil Ways Sometimes Bare Gifts of New Inventions"

Turn on the music!





"Mental Drawings of Demons Spinning Their Evil Ways Sometimes Bare Gifts of New Inventions"

The back and forth of good and bad
the sifting of our errors
how and where do we find our revival
of clear intentions?

Mental drawings of demons of the heart
They make the wheels spin their evil ways
tragically.
Yet sometimes
despite the wounded closet
there is a lovely token.
The gift of understanding
magically bringing revelations
we had not recognized
before the sleeping princess. 
Waking that beauty
no further breeding of dragons
occurs without clear planning.

Sometimes we conquer that dark side
spend time considering the view from top of the hill.
Watch sunsets
consider mythical monsters
and meet what might become bad decisions
head on
with an opposite approach
and our own fire-breathing tongues.

And then?
The wheel spins again
symbols of chaos within our hands
new inventions
new attractions toward depression
monsters in the closet
intimidating czar
despite the ones we conquered ore.

We are a fragile being
yet resilient.
Despite the temptations
the quest for new ideas
roar.
Despite the lust of new ideas
that might disable the heavens angles
we continue on
reveling in new inventions.

Do it... it's only just round the corner,
one new experience, 
one new insight, 
one new innovation, 
one new discovery
designs created from what is possible.

Painting our lives
drawings of scorpions
biting their own tail
or disabling objectionable disabilities thereof.
There is room for safe breathing
we are safe within the IDEA
of creativity
meeting the ways of right
or wrong
fault or reason.

There within the birds that cover our eyes
we decipher
and meet our own glorious
newly uncovered
finds of delight.

We are not that many steps away
from tiny whimsical angels
that remind us of
real life and our own breathing.
There is safety in that call.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
copyright 2009

I Painted a Dream of Enchanted Faeries Where Flowers Met the Dew

First? Turn on the music:



"I Painted a Dream of Enchanted Faeries Where Flowers Met the Dew"

I painted a dream of enchanted faeries
drew out maps to travel with
whimsical angel pictures
where flowers met the dew.

I imagine a mermaids mission
toward the sea past the glen
my satchel is full
of notebooks held past pretend.

I seek whimsical angels
who watch over a babies footprints
keeping eye on the daylight
and the doves mournful relent.

Stay close beside an infants crib
ward off all danger
protecting unsuspecting infants
for a thousand and one years.

No dragons may enter
only song birds allowed
in a butterfly garden
tis a fairies lament rung stout.

Fairies guard the dandelion
and the twinkling stars
lest they fly away without us
and leave our outstretched arms.

Whimsical angel drawings
Another world outside my own
yet I listen so intently
for a land past my home.

Enchanted fairies sing songs
and beacon the moonlight
and if you close your eyes to listen
you'll hear a tender might.

Inspired by a faeries tenderness
attention to a needing land
a fairies flight returns predicted
to a believers outstretched hands.

Swans grow from goslings
birds from eggs
clumsy beginnings yes
lead to mysterious legs.

Bells chime
time to meet a magic maker
holding keys to lands
fore every single mystery partaker.

Amid the trembling roses
who meet a unicorns dream
rest assured a captains roar
will forever sing.

Never worry little princess
fore a story of might
a note has been left by a mermaid
fore a swan songs undying
and perhaps restless
flight.

11 April 2009
by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

The image is of "Swan Song" 30x40 oil on canvas by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen Original available through Monkdogz Urban Art http://www.monkdogz.com

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"Happiness vrs. the Unhappy Soul - I LUST For Passion"

"Flight" 24x48 oil on canvas by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

"Happiness vrs. the Unhappy Soul - I LUST For Passion"

I was prompted by someone dear to me to consider what happiness is and how to find it. I must tell you ahead of time that I am an artist and my consideration of happiness might be distorted from yours.. yes you may think so. My approach is that we are ALL floundering to find our way. We stumble, recognize the pebbles and sometimes boulders and then? We continue on because we have learned a few things. (?)

Take me with a grain of salt and perhaps your own conclusions as well.

You can't let anyone, be it spouse or lover, put you in a 'specific' box,  just because you don't know what kind of box works for you.  Just because what makes them happy does not make you happy, does not mean that you can't be happy, once you FIND what makes you happy.  You can't settle for what someone else loves in life, just because you don't know yet.  Just because you don't feel the same as another person, does not mean there is something wrong with you.

Here is what "I" think...

Happiness is a very elusive thing... overrated as I have said before to some who know me.  It comes in spurts.. and I think most times we don't recognize it when it is...

ALL AROUND US... 

and then...

It is gone.  

We have to try to see it when it is there though and then begin to embrace it. The more we do, the more we will understand what there was/is about it that makes us feel that way.  I think it is much easier to cradle.. coddle even, pain and the dark side.  I do that... that is what art is about to me. I am just being honest as an artist with the artist's soul I was born with.  I have always said and felt too, that there is nothing particularly "interesting about happy".  It just isn't that interesting... and does not spring forth any great works of art.  There are many who would beg to differ with me... and I understand their approach to things, but it just does not work for me. Am I doomed for depression? At times I guess yes. A bitter pill is swallowed and I hold it within my trembling hands before I partake... each and every single time.  

I just watched the movie, "Modigliani" Here is the theme song at the end... 



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nbaiMd3AnjI&NR=1

I think it so fitting that this is the end of the movie... the credits, as if it is our very lives being considered.  

Consider...

I think there is a part of ME that does not really want to be happy... in happy there is no art, not what I consider to be true art... no true passion and the mere fact that it is so fleeting makes it too fragile to deal with.  So again I go back to "What is INTERESTING about happy?" 

There is a spot inside everyones soul that seeks to understand their passion... and so they eternally lust after it.  I do.  You do, even if you deny that it might come artistically... it does.  If God exists at all, it is in creativity.  He/she... IT... IS CREATIVITY.  Consider flowers in the desert. To deny that part of yourself.. or for me to put it on the shelf, is in fact the greatest sin.  But as I wrote... this is just me, take it or leave it.  

I say...

FEEL DEEPLY

SEEK WHAT YOU FEEL WITH A LOVERS LUST AND FEED THAT PASSION.

And if you don't know what it is?  It is NEVER up to ANYONE else to tell you or to confine you in theirs...

the RESPONSIBILITY IS YOURS.  

This is after all... YOUR LIFE.

Life is fragile and yet... difficult to kill.  We give it away or we honor it... it is up to you and up to me to do with it as we will.  

The mix of happiness and unhappiness is so that we will know the difference.  

We are not in Africa watching our baby being held high with a sword... that is not unhappy, that is evil.  So we can't confuse those things with atrocities. We must recognize them though.. because it takes true passion to overcome evil.

Back to being happy?  IS IT in those fleeting seconds that are within a song that makes us feel that we can indeed fly?  If so, that is passion known.  

To neglect it is like leaving a baby on the side of the road unattended.

Pick up the baby...IT IS "YOU".

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
copyright 2009

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Sometimes the Dark Side Hosts Amazing Realms of Creativty

This is one of those videos that captures you and stays inside you. LUV this! It is spooky kinda but within its darkness it shares a vision of birth.

Song to the Siren (This Mortal Coil)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XWzoUf_HmUw&feature=related

Schaefer Portrait-Marian Freeman Peoples Choice Award recipient, Noble Richardson

Noble Richardson and Marian Freeman- Hawaii

Schaefer Portrait Challenge, Marian Freeman Peoples Choice Award recipient Noble Richardson

Schaefer Portrait Challenge Awards Reception, Maui,HI

The response to the artists of the Schaefer Portrait Challenge 2009 and their work has been astounding with over 5,000 visitors to Maui Culture and the Arts Gallery to date!
Thousands of people have cast their ballots to determine their favorite portrait.
Maui Culture and the Arts will be hosting the Marian Freeman People's Choice Award reception Monday Feb. 16th at 5:00 in the gallery.
The top five artists with the most votes will be recognized and the $5,000. award will be given that evening.

If YOU are in Maui, Hawaii during this time be sure to stop by!

MY painting in this invite is top row second from the left. Within this blog I have posted the image of my painting called, "Mr. Magnusen" as well as the narrative.

Aloha, Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

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Drawings of Scorpions and Introducing You to Your Own Tail-Yes How to Draw a Scorpion

"Drawings of Scorpions and Introducing You to Your Own Tail-Yes How to Draw a Scorpion"

Drawings of scorpions
sketches, drawings
of a serpents tail.
I feel their shell
and I become the work
I become the graphite
on the clear white pages
over and over to understand
just how enlightened can an artist be
when patterns are met by the hand?

Scorpion drawings
line my closet.
I hold my moods off balance
off center
dark
light
seeking daylight
yes
daylight.
Taken from my hidden rock
not to be exposed
just free to be myself.

Today
I am somehow entombed
by a lack of expression
my tail doth wane
I cannot feel my tongue
I am folded up
and set aside in secret drawers.
I long to be mesmerized
free from self imposed impositions.

Holding up a mirror
I see my scorpion
backwards
just like I feel I am
at times...
muted song and all.

I am like a memory
just a drawing
trying to create some sort of solum oath
fierce yet frail
dangerous if you provoke me
mindless if the sun is free to meet my back
and sees you wanting
me.
How to draw a scorpion?
You ask...
again?

In flight
I could go anywhere
stare at embankments
and then?
Just jump off!
Yes...
just leap into the abyss.
Why not?

But alas
I am not a bird nor dragonfly
not even a fly on ones wall.
I am inside my drawings
drawings of scorpions
because of you
because you said you'd like to see them.

You promised that you would not
slur your words anymore.
I demand that oath.
Sketches and drawings
colors lined up and waiting for atonement
say it as clear as you can
and I
might
follow you.

Stop asking me how to draw scorpions
OK?
Time to beacon your own.
Scorpion drawings
line my closet.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
copyright 2009

The image is called "Primal Block Party l" by me, Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
It consists of NINE 3x3x2 individual stretched canvas blocks. This is part of my "Primal Series", there are many more to this series... ask Bob or check out http://www.barebrush.com and look for me amount artists under the letter 'O' for Ostman-Magnusen.

To purchase this or any of my ORIGINAL art please contact Bob Hogge at Monkdogz Urban Art, New York. http://www.monkdogz.com


My page on Monkdogz: http://www.monkdogz.com/chelseagallery/artistart/Magnusen/artist_magnusen.htm

Need some inspiration? Watch one of my favorite YouTubes:

Antony & The Johnsons: "Epilepsy Is Dancing" from their new release The Crying Light

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Antony & The Johnsons: Epilepsy Is Dancing
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"I Heard the Night... It Was a Breathtaking Responsibility"

"I Heard the Night... It Was a Breathtaking Responsibility"

I heard the night...
it was a breathtaking responsibility.
A reality I must never dismiss.

My whale had not been sleeping
no
he had been waiting
for me
along the seaside and its mist.

How kind.

I caught a star
with the very tip my tongue.
It melted into
lavender
and roses
and then it enlightened me
yet almost frightened me
knowing
my muse
was not that far.

I imagined myself to be floating...

and so...

I WAS.

And yet...
Glassy eyed
for fear of losing that second of grace
I could barely find my way.

Wrapping promise around me
I would press on.

Dismissing sea weed away from my path
I had to remind myself
once again
that I was no longer a prisoner
despite my past
self imposed
circumstance.

I had been redressed by tiny angels
those fairies that comfort you
when no spark
of light
can be found.
Images buried
deep beneath the surface of a clouds cover
understanding little
for its barely singing sound.

I maintain the deepest gratitude
for the whale who waited
despite my protests
eluding to
my most unflattering moods.
Doorways blocked
with the rhythm of my songs
gated.
Yet
the whale
had pinned music to my veil
and washed away doubts
with the oceans logic.

And there
within my hand
trembling
yes
a star
did twinkle...
'backwards'
and an unforgettable wish...
granted.

"My MUSE!" I cried.

And there between my canvas
and my brush
most delicately
disguised.
The colors
would yet flow freely
knowing
their essence
would never die.

Whatever caused my nightmares
to surface
sad tale
I will refrain from hearing them
no matter how pale.
Oh, not a promise
exactly
mind you
just a world I live in
performing tasks
in pretend.

Pulling leaves from my pocket
I still will choose to know
nightmares have no space to score here
and nowhere
to land past the grove.

After hearing what the moon had to say
I am resolved
and understand
stars are not all that far to reach for
when near
a destined plan.

Ahh yes
I heard the night...
it was a breathtaking responsibility.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
copyright 2009

The image is of my painting, "For Isa",by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen copyright 2009, it is an 18x24 oil on canvas and part of my "Passion Series", which is an ongoing body of work. I always paint in series and continue on with them until I tire of their theme or the style they are presented in. I confess that I rarely do refined work anymore as I find it tedious and boring, opting for a freer dance of the brush so that my emotions meet the canvas in a more honest form.

Interested in purchasing the original? Contact Bob Hogge at Monkdogz Urban Art, NY http://www.monkdogz.com

Interested in a giclee? Humm that might take a bit of convincing so don't contact me lest you are sure you LOVE it! Smile.

Aloha, Kathy

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Visual Artists, Goddess Art, Fantasy Art-Improving SEO

Visual artists, goddess art, fantasy art...Exchange links with the 'right' website, keep within your subject or niche! I have 'finally' realized why that is so important.

I came across a great article about improving website traffic:


http://www.isnare.com/?aid=265229&ca=Internet

Not a question but a note that I took in about this article. First off I am a visual artists so I am coming from that frame of thinking. When I first created my website a few years ago I linked to fellow artists but not similar in style. I linked a lot to abstract artists instead of what my art suggested, which is basically goddess art, fantasy warrior women of passion that are erotic in nature. I had not put it together 'why' I was linking so just got out there with my requests to exchange links. Good info I caught in your article that reminded me that I need to pursue 'like art'.

The 'image' above is of one of my paintings called "3" it is a 36x48 oil on canvas. Looking at it as I post it on here I am reminded that not all of my work is goddess art or fantasy art. It is all passionate art though but finding other artists who describe their work that way, being a good keyword that is. Ahh me it is all a science huh? I can see my work as fantasy art warrior women but that may not be within others minds when they see my work that that is what I do either. Hummm and smile!

If you Twitter come follow me! http://twitter.com/KathysArt

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Andrew Wyeth, Artist, Passes at 91-Famous For "Christina's World"

Andrew Wyeth


"Christina's World" by Andrew Wyeth

Sadly, artist and illustrator Andrew Wyeth passed away today. Son of N C Wyeth, father of James Wyeth, passed away January 16, 2009. Andrew Wyeth was a probably most noted for his painting, "Christina's World".

From the New York Times:

"Andrew Wyeth, Famed and Infamous Artist, Dies at 91"
by Michael Kimmelman

" Andrew Wyeth, one of the most popular and also most lambasted artists in the history of American art, a reclusive linchpin in a colorful family dynasty of artists from tiny Chadds Ford, Penn., whose precise realist views of hardscrabble rural life became icons of national culture and sparked endless debates about the nature of modern art, has died at his home in suburban Philadelphia, The Associated Press reported."

Read more at:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/17/arts/design/17wyeth.html?_r=1&hp

RIP Mr. Wyeth, you will be missed yet not forgotten. Thank you for all your glorious artwork.

Check out my Squidoo Lens for more info, pics, YouTubes, etc., about Mr. Wyeth:

http://www.squidoo.com/andrewwyeth

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"Mr. Magnusen"

"Mr. Magnusen" 36x48x2 oil on canvas at the opening for the Shaefer Portrait Challenge.

If I Could Be Your Angel-Or... If YOU Might Be Mine (?)

OK... so here is how it works; all those inspirations and how they find their way to canvas;how it works for me anyway. A friend on MySpace sent me some pics, these quotes below and a YouTube that shows a drawing, not the one above, but yes this song.
Sooo I felt and feel inspired by it all. I am not into 'angels' nor biblical agenda's but find a certain comfort in the magic these quotes and angels suggest. I have added one pic sent by my MySpace friend and one of my own "Primal Block Party 1", for I am indeed in chains to my own evils and angels of the artist soul. I like the image of angels here because it suggests some sort of secret. I feel inspired by the whole thing and plan on doing some art regarding chains, angels and all those demons that surface when we allow reality in.

Quotes:

Yes, love indeed is light from heaven; A spark of that immortal fire with angels shared, by Allah given to lift from earth our low desire.
~Lord Byron

We are each of us angels with only one wing, and we can only fly by embracing one another.
~Lucretius

If instead of a gem, or even a flower, we should cast the gift of a loving thought into the heart of a friend, that would be giving as the angels give.
~George MacDonald

I love good and pleasure, I hate evil and pain, I want to be happy and I am not mistaken in believing, that people, angels and even demons have those same inclinations.
~Nicolas Malebranche

It is not known precisely where angels dwell whether in the air, the void, or the planets. It has not been God's pleasure that we should be informed of their abode.
~Voltaire

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.
~Socrates

It is by suffering that human beings become angels.
~Victor Hugo

For why should we not admire more the angels themselves and the blessed choirs of heaven?
~Giovanni Pico della Mirandola

The hours I spend with you I look upon as sort of a perfumed garden, a dim twilight, and a fountain singing to it. You and you alone make me feel that I am alive. Other men it is said have seen angels, but I have seen thee and thou art enough.
~George Edward Moore

Angels are spirits, flames of fire; they are higher than man, they have wider connections.
~Matthew Simpson

Adam was placed in Paradise in perfect estate, and in the company of God's angels; God walked and did talk with him. He heard the voice, and beheld the presence of God.
~John Jewel

A babe in the house is a well-spring of pleasure, a messenger of peace and love, a resting place for innocence on earth, a link between angels and men.
~Martin Farquhar Tupper