Painting the Night

Moonlighting
12 x 12
Available at Blackheath Gallery, London

Its probably no secret to those who have been reading this blog for a while that I love nocturnes. Like many of my visual obsessions, this one goes back to childhood. Like a lot of kids, I stayed out on summer evenings to catch fireflies and count the stars. But my most vivid memories are of a cottage on a lake where we stayed for a few weeks one summer. There was long dock with a covered boat house and screened porch where I could wile away hot summer nights watching the moon rise or the reflections of the lights from the other side of the lake.

These days I sometimes wake early to watch the full moon, huge and glowing, set outside my window. Here is a favorite poem that puts words to my fascination. Enjoy.

Moon & Water

I wake and spend
the last hours
of darkness
with no one

but the moon.
She listens
to my complaints
like the good

companion she is
and comforts me surely
with her light.
But she, like everyone,

has her own life.
So finally I understand
that she has turned away,
is no longer listening.

She wants me
to refold myself
into my own life.
And, bending close,

as we all dream of doing,
she rows with her white arms
through the dark water
which she adores

Mary Oliver