#O64: Lonely, Lonely

After my last few paintings I wanted to paint something a bit less abstract. Looking through some old source photos I decided to have another go at this one. This is an abandoned diary farm building in Cullinan, South Africa. I used to drive past this every day on my way home, it is about a 100 metres down the road from the place where this painting’s source photo was taken.


The source photo is shown below. The spots in the sky show where I tested the value of my sky color on the photo. I was amazed how much lighter in value the sky was than I first thought. My first color mixture looked OK to me, but as you can see from the swatches on the photo, they were way too dark.


The last week has been one of the hardest ones for me this year. Back pain and fatigue stretch minutes at work into hours. The days are gray and moody, but when I am alone in my studio with my pictures and music – the rain falling softly on the low roof – I am joyous beyond words sometimes.

Danse Russe
If I when my wife is sleeping
and the baby and Kathleen
are sleeping
and the sun is a flame-white disc
in silken mists
above shining trees,—
if I in my north room
dance naked, grotesquely
before my mirror
waving my shirt round my head
and singing softly to myself:
“I am lonely, lonely.
I was born to be lonely,
I am best so!”
If I admire my arms, my face,
my shoulders, flanks, buttocks
against the yellow drawn shades,—
Who shall say I am not
the happy genius of my household?

William Carlos Williams, “Danse Russe” from
The Collected Poems of William Carlos Williams, 
Volume I, 1909-1939, edited by Christopher MacGowan. 
This copy from Poetry Foundation

I hope you are happy and content. Thanks for visiting my blog.

10 thoughts on “#O64: Lonely, Lonely

    1. Many thanks Nadia – somehow knowing that joy and darkness follow in cycles make it less relevant which one is happening at present. An upward spiral of understanding that develops between the never-ending cycles of happy and sad, or something like that.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. How lucky to find that joy. Or is the luck really hard work? Love the WCW poem which i just read not too long ago. I took this book out of the library a few weeks back and it sits together with another book of poetry by WH Auden.

    Liked by 1 person

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