Meet the Artist, "me" in San Diego, CA

Hi!

If you are in Southern California this Tuesday, 6/15/10 come and meet the artists! Dani Dodge, Marilyn Szabo and "me"! We will all be speaking about our artwork.

Hugz~!

Dennis Needs Help, The VA is NEGLIGENT

"Mr. Magnusen" 36x48x2 oil on canvas


"Dennis Needs Help, The VA is NEGLIGENT"

This has nothing to do with art per say except that my husband Dennis is an artist, he plays guitar and writes beautiful songs. He has written many for me as we were high school sweethearts who reconnected after 30 years. He love me.

I have posted the painting I did of him that was in the Schaefer Portrait Challenge in Hawaii, called, "Mr. Magnusen"

If you know of anyone who might help him or want to pray for him I would appreciate your assistance.

Here is his story:

To whom it may concern,

My name is Dennis G. Magnusen, I used to be a mentor teacher in Hawaiian Gardens, CA. This was a hard place for a kid to grow up, gangs were well established in this area. I taught junior high during the day, home students in the afternoon, and high school "gangsters" in the evening out of a community
store front school. I loved my job; I took it very seriously. I became an educator because of my experiences
in Vietnam; I did not like what war did to people nor to children, therefore, I taught peaceful resolution to conflicts whenever it seemed necessary. I had to quit teaching in 1990 due to the effects of Agent Orange; I moved to Hawaii.

HERE IS THE PROBLEM: My VA doctor of 18 years (Dr. George W. Ross, Chief of Neurology for the state of Hawaii) finally admitted that he knows nothing about my medical condition. He always told me that "I should not be in so much pain" and that "it is not going to kill me". As it turns out, he could not be more wrong.

In early 2008 I was diagnosed with severe small fiber neuropathy from a biopsy that was sent to Therapath Lab,NY. This is a very painful disease that controls the autonomic nervous system; this has never been addressed by the VA. The only thing the VA has done is to load me up on drugs. Most doctors are amazed that I can even get out of bed with so many medications. I need treatment (i.e. IVIG), not more meds.

In 2008 Dr. Ross recommended that I see Dr. Mandaville (at Univ. Calif. at San Diego and also with the VA in LaJolla). On January 15, 2008, I was to meet with the VA's neurologist who was going to turn me over to Dr. Mandeville. Instead, the VA's neurologist (Dr. Vivan) said that they were going to "re-test" me. It has been a year since that meeting and nothing has changed, they schedule me 4-6 months after each test to see a neurologist, and then order another test.

I need help. In December of 2009, I had to go to the ER twice. The first time I went to a local hospital, I was convulsing and could not breathe ( I was throwing-up continuously and therefore could not keep my meds down), the pain was severe. The next day it happened again. This time I went to the VA in LaJolla, a 25 mile drive. I had to wait in ER for 5 hours before being seen. Once again in severe pain. I was admitted for 3 days before being stabilized. I can't help but to think this wouldn't happen if I was not on so many meds.

In the VA's Patient Right's, it states: "You will be treated with dignity, compassion, and respect as an individual. You will receive care in a safe environment." I've never felt like I was a recipient of this kind of care, it's more like DENY, DELAY and DEATH.

So far I've been diagnosed with peripheral neuropathy, avascular necrosis ( left hip has had a full replacement, the right hip is still deteriorating), cardiomyopathy, COPD, chronic pain, chest pain, PTSD, persistent insomnia, acute sinusitis, acute tonsillitis, malaise and fatigue, cough, pyronies disease, gastrointestinal motility, and small fiber neuropathy, as well as a few others.

I need help. All I want is a doctor who can help me. There are still things in this world that I want to accomplish. I want the VA to treat me with dignity, compassion, and respect as an individual, and give me that care in a safe environment.

Dennis G Magnusen

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