All Images & Text Copyrighted 2013
"Sandwich Glass" Painting by DJ Marshall
"Sandwich Glass, . . ."
Glass, most often, protects us from the cold and rain. With
colors, it can be so bold. The sun light adds delight. Its rays
pass through with sparkles, flashes, and shadows that carve
all sorts of images, and at times, they seem to spar, as if in
some sort of fight.
The image of colors, and the brilliance of light filled patterns
on walls stay in the mind for days, often used as a salvation by
the mind. Memories are brought forth as a reminder that simple beauty does exist, and helps one survive the everyday
ugliness of an asphalt and concrete covered world.
The sands of time, with an artisan's drive, brought forth
such exquisite items to possess and admire. Take care to
appreciate beauty, or careless actions will bring forth shards.
Shards of the broken treasures, which will not only pierce
skin, --- but destroy every last shred of life saving pleasure.
by DJ Marshall
"More Sandwich Glass" Painting by DJ Marshall
THINGS WERE, . . . "TWISTED"
- - - Perfect swirls of clarity, twisted their way to smoky ,
light green twirls. They worked their way toward ever
deeper shades of blue. Until, . . . all was consumed within
the perfection of their vision.
A day in the life unfolded. Family, friends, and all other
people and things of the day formed swirls and twirls, which were twisted into the deeper shades of blue.
Twisted shades of blue consumed all things with their hue. No matter what one decided to do, there was nothing but shades of blue. Twisted, all became twisted just for you.
by DJ Marshall
THINGS WERE, . . . "TWISTED"
- - - Perfect swirls of clarity, twisted their way to smoky ,
light green twirls. They worked their way toward ever
deeper shades of blue. Until, . . . all was consumed within
the perfection of their vision.
A day in the life unfolded. Family, friends, and all other
people and things of the day formed swirls and twirls, which were twisted into the deeper shades of blue.
Twisted shades of blue consumed all things with their hue. No matter what one decided to do, there was nothing but shades of blue. Twisted, all became twisted just for you.
by DJ Marshall
"National Seashore, Eastham" Painting by DJ Marshall
"We The People,. . ."
"We the people", own this national seashore. Not those
from, . . . the extreme conservative insanity, who take all that
our nation has to offer, . . . without concern, nor plan, that
all of "We The People" share in the same.
Their insanity knows no bounds. Though we are all
mammals, the FOX in charge chose to blur out from vision
the mammary glands of women in a Picasso painting. They
were suggesting that Picasso could not see? Thank God, yes
God !, . . . your God, my God, or any God, that most of "We
The People" , have decided to let women be. One soul even
paid $179 million, for the image created by Picasso, so the
people could continue to see, as well as remain ever so free,
and, amazingly, bring along their mammary glands to the
National Sea Shore for all to see.
by DJ Marshall
"We The People,. . ."
"We the people", own this national seashore. Not those
from, . . . the extreme conservative insanity, who take all that
our nation has to offer, . . . without concern, nor plan, that
all of "We The People" share in the same.
Their insanity knows no bounds. Though we are all
mammals, the FOX in charge chose to blur out from vision
the mammary glands of women in a Picasso painting. They
were suggesting that Picasso could not see? Thank God, yes
God !, . . . your God, my God, or any God, that most of "We
The People" , have decided to let women be. One soul even
paid $179 million, for the image created by Picasso, so the
people could continue to see, as well as remain ever so free,
and, amazingly, bring along their mammary glands to the
National Sea Shore for all to see.
by DJ Marshall
"Breakfast" Painting by DJ Marshall
"EGGS, - - -the start of it all?"
A morning's sustenance, . . . the energy to help
perpetuate all that is the essence of the farm itself.
Much maligned, by those that would have you think
that they are in the know. Their nonsense, scared
many away from consuming exactly what their bodies
needed. Years of deception appears to be on the verge
of going unpunished.
After all, an egg contains all that is necessary to bring
forth life, as well as sustain it, in many of its forms. They
are rather soothing to the eye as well, don't you think ??
by DJ Marshall
"EGGS, - - -the start of it all?"
A morning's sustenance, . . . the energy to help
perpetuate all that is the essence of the farm itself.
Much maligned, by those that would have you think
that they are in the know. Their nonsense, scared
many away from consuming exactly what their bodies
needed. Years of deception appears to be on the verge
of going unpunished.
After all, an egg contains all that is necessary to bring
forth life, as well as sustain it, in many of its forms. They
are rather soothing to the eye as well, don't you think ??
by DJ Marshall
"Mount Desert Island, Me" Painting by DJ Marshall
"Green And Red Puffs, . . . The Stuff Of Dreams"
There were little puffs of red and green, on the Swamp, and
Sugar Maples respectively. Lining both sides of the roads and
pathways, they guided many toward destinations of expanding
possibilities, and lives of plenty.
Birds of Spring searched them, diligently, for the best spot
to hatch their eggs. All men and women gazed upon them
swaying in the breeze, forming day dreams of their own - - -
to hatch their own newly conceived realities.
Time placed its limitations on what might be hatched from
day dreams and plans. Old men and women considered them
selves fortunate to be able to follow the pathway, lined with
the puffs of Spring, to its end - - -to any open dale that they
would not offend.
They blinked their eyes, and brown leaves crumbled under
their feet along all pathways. Bare branches exposed the empty
nests of dreams from the past. With this vision, one could not
tell if what was hatched came to full fruition. There was only
the sad empty shell of someone's hopes and what once was.
by DJ Marshall
"Green And Red Puffs, . . . The Stuff Of Dreams"
There were little puffs of red and green, on the Swamp, and
Sugar Maples respectively. Lining both sides of the roads and
pathways, they guided many toward destinations of expanding
possibilities, and lives of plenty.
Birds of Spring searched them, diligently, for the best spot
to hatch their eggs. All men and women gazed upon them
swaying in the breeze, forming day dreams of their own - - -
to hatch their own newly conceived realities.
Time placed its limitations on what might be hatched from
day dreams and plans. Old men and women considered them
selves fortunate to be able to follow the pathway, lined with
the puffs of Spring, to its end - - -to any open dale that they
would not offend.
They blinked their eyes, and brown leaves crumbled under
their feet along all pathways. Bare branches exposed the empty
nests of dreams from the past. With this vision, one could not
tell if what was hatched came to full fruition. There was only
the sad empty shell of someone's hopes and what once was.
by DJ Marshall
"Maine Light House" Painting by DJ Marshall
" Is it Time To Go, . . . Or Stay With The Flow"
He finished organizing a life time of artistic creations. Words were used to fill in the pictures and spaces. Staring at a blank
white wall, the thought of, "What's The Point", would not leave
him alone. One of the few things that didn't, creating a mindful
of fears, tears, and a negative tone.
The image of black birds fluttered through his mind, bringing
forth new found truths, then stealing them back into the dark
shadows of thoughts on black wings in the mind. He wished he
could hold onto them as if they were things. Increased effort
only increased feelings of being in a bind.
People could now see them all in a row, like slices of a life,
which did not have enough pull for the tow. The Blue Bird, and Red Bird message did sing. The Green Bird, on a swaying cat tail
managed to maintain its cling. Of what importance this might
have, one wasn't sure of a thing.
Was it time to cross The Bridge? One could see it, but what
now would be the reason to reach the vision of, "The Other Side". To be on a breeze in the trees might not be such an unpleasant place to be, whenever one thought of him. Would
that lesson the sting? The sting of not being able to feel freshly washed sheets,
. . . the softness of a cat's fur, or to hear it purr. Sun shining on
one's face, . . . while sitting on a rock, in the middle of a place,
. . . a place only wildlife would choose to grace. To be on the
breeze, at the tops of trees, when, and where ever, anyone
thinks of him, surely will not sting. Its simply the reward for
putting up with all of life's disgusting things.
Each step on the bridge brought forth one more thought of
success and failures. They seemed to fly through the air, toward
the bright sunlight, as it filtered through the tree tops on the
other side. He too began to float, as all cares vanished, with
relaxations filling the void. The other side of the bridge was at
last in sight.
by DJ Marshall
ALL TEXT AND IMAGES COPYRIGHTED 2013
On the Slide Show Page, there is a slide show of DJ Marshall's Impressionist & Traditional Works, & a slide show of his Modern Work, as well.
" Is it Time To Go, . . . Or Stay With The Flow"
He finished organizing a life time of artistic creations. Words were used to fill in the pictures and spaces. Staring at a blank
white wall, the thought of, "What's The Point", would not leave
him alone. One of the few things that didn't, creating a mindful
of fears, tears, and a negative tone.
The image of black birds fluttered through his mind, bringing
forth new found truths, then stealing them back into the dark
shadows of thoughts on black wings in the mind. He wished he
could hold onto them as if they were things. Increased effort
only increased feelings of being in a bind.
People could now see them all in a row, like slices of a life,
which did not have enough pull for the tow. The Blue Bird, and Red Bird message did sing. The Green Bird, on a swaying cat tail
managed to maintain its cling. Of what importance this might
have, one wasn't sure of a thing.
Was it time to cross The Bridge? One could see it, but what
now would be the reason to reach the vision of, "The Other Side". To be on a breeze in the trees might not be such an unpleasant place to be, whenever one thought of him. Would
that lesson the sting? The sting of not being able to feel freshly washed sheets,
. . . the softness of a cat's fur, or to hear it purr. Sun shining on
one's face, . . . while sitting on a rock, in the middle of a place,
. . . a place only wildlife would choose to grace. To be on the
breeze, at the tops of trees, when, and where ever, anyone
thinks of him, surely will not sting. Its simply the reward for
putting up with all of life's disgusting things.
Each step on the bridge brought forth one more thought of
success and failures. They seemed to fly through the air, toward
the bright sunlight, as it filtered through the tree tops on the
other side. He too began to float, as all cares vanished, with
relaxations filling the void. The other side of the bridge was at
last in sight.
by DJ Marshall
ALL TEXT AND IMAGES COPYRIGHTED 2013
On the Slide Show Page, there is a slide show of DJ Marshall's Impressionist & Traditional Works, & a slide show of his Modern Work, as well.
