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Self-Portrait with Rita

Artist: Thomas Hart Benton

Genre: Self-Portrait

Date: 1924

Medium: Oil on Canvas

Collection: National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution

Thomas Hart Benton (April 15, 1889 – January 19, 1975) was an American painter, muralist, and printmaker. Along with Grant Wood and John Steuart Curry, he was at the forefront of the Regionalist art movement. The fluid, sculpted figures in his paintings showed everyday people in scenes of life in the United States.

His work is strongly associated with the Midwestern United States, the region in which he was born and which he called home for most of his life. He also studied in Paris, lived in New York City for more than 20 years and painted scores of works there, summered for 50 years on Martha's Vineyard off the New England coast, and also painted scenes of the American South and West.

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"Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable." ~ Mary Oliver

🧚‍♂️🐢Painting • Wayward Traveler • Annie Stegg Gerard

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Serena Reading

Artist: George Romney (British, 1734 - 1802)

Style: Rococo

Genre: Portrait

Date: 1785

Collection: Private Collection

"She always has her nose in a book and her head in the clouds." ~ Grace Metalious (1924–1964)

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"As I walk'd through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place, where was a Denn; And I laid me down in that place to sleep: And as I slept I dreamed a Dream." ~ John Bunyan

🦌🌕Digital Art • Edges of Reality • Inge Schuster

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“It is only a novel… or, in short, only some work in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation of its varieties, the liveliest effusions of wit and humour, are conveyed to the world in the best-chosen language.” ~ Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

🖌️Painting • Jane Austen • Gail Chandler

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“Sometimes you want to say, “I love you, but…”

Yet the “but” takes away the ‘I love you’. In love their are no ‘buts’ or ‘if’s’ or ‘when’. It’s just there, and always. No beginning, no end. It’s the condition-less state of the heart. Not a feeling that comes and goes at the whim of the emotions. It is there in our heart, a part of our heart…eventually grafting itself into each limb and cell of our bodies. Love changes our brain, the way we move and talk. Love lives in our spirit and graces us with its presence each day, until death.

To say “I love you, but….” is to say, “I did not love you at all”.

I say this to you now: I love you, with no beginning, no end. I love you as you have become an extra necessary organ in my body. I love you as only a girl could love a boy. Without fear. Without expectations. Wanting nothing in return, except that you allow me to keep you here in my heart, that I may always know your strength, your eyes, and your spirit that gave me freedom and let me fly.”

~ Jamie Weise

Photograph: A Love Story by Kim Hojnacki

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Home and Love Poem

By Robert William

Just Home and Love! the words are small Four little letters unto each; And yet you will not find in all The wide and gracious range of speech Two more so tenderly complete: When angels talk in Heaven above, I'm sure they have no words more sweet Than Home and Love.

Just Home and Love! it's hard to guess Which of the two were best to gain; Home without Love is bitterness; Love without Home is often pain. No! each alone will seldom do; Somehow they travel hand and glove: If you win one you must have two, Both Home and Love.

And if you've both, well then I'm sure You ought to sing the whole day long; It doesn't matter if you're poor With these to make divine your song. And so I praisefully repeat, When angels talk in Heaven above, There are no words more simply sweet Than Home and Love.

Digital Art: Serenity House by Working Girl Art

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An Old Woman Reading

Artist: Rembrandt van Rijn - Dutch Golden Age (1606–1669)

Genre: Portrait

Date: circa 1655

Medium: Oil on Canvas

Collection: Drumlanrig Castle, Thornhill, Dumfries and Galloway

“The world was hers for the reading.” ~ Betty Smith

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"Do not be afraid of spending quality time by yourself. Find meaning or don’t find meaning but “steal” some time and give it freely and exclusively to your own self. Opt for privacy and solitude. That doesn’t make you antisocial or cause you to reject the rest of the world. But you need to breathe. And you need to be." ~ Albert Camus

Digital Art • Joan of Arc Listens to Voices • Jeff Stanford

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“Books are good company, in sad times and happy times, for books are people-- people who have managed to stay alive by hiding between the covers of a book.” ~ E.B. White

📚Illustration • Golden Reading Chair • Annya Marttinen

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The Princess and the Frog

By Kim Merryman

Once upon a time and place, There lived a princess fair of face. She was searching for a prince to wed, One of noble character bred. Many a fine tear she had shed, When each prince came up lacking.

One day as she went for a stroll, She came upon a grassy knoll, Beside a quiet pond, and saw a fallen log. She sat down and began to weep, Her sorrow running oh so deep, At failing to find a noble prince to share her life.

"Princess fair, why do you weep?" Asked a voice so rich and deep. Surprised the princess looked around, And spied a frog upon the ground. "Good frog, did you speak to me?" The frog replied, "I did indeed."

"A princess so fair as you, Should never have to feel so blue. Please tell me what your trouble is, Perhaps I can be of help to you." "I've been searching for a prince to wed, One of noble character bred, but all have been sadly lacking."

The frog hopped from the ground to log, And said, "Princess, what I have to say will be a shock. You see, I'm not really just a lowly frog. I was once a handsome prince of noble character bred, Until a hateful witch I tried to vanquish, Put a curse on me instead."

"The curse is that a frog I'll always be, Only a maiden's kiss will set me free. So if you're willing to place a kiss, Upon my ugly froggy lips, A prince again will I then be, And both our dreams will become reality."

The princess hesitated just a bit. His tale sounded so far fetched. But then again, frogs didn't talk, And this one could, so she didn't balk. She bent down, closed her eyes and kissed him. In a flash a handsome prince appeared, finally freed from frog's disguise.

No longer did this princess sing the blues, She'd found her prince and at the news, All the kingdom celebrated. Everyone was so elated. The prince and princess soon were wed, And together they raised children of noble character bred.

🖌️Painting: Once Upon a Time by Franz von Stuck

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Dance Fairy, Fairy Bright

By Adam Latham

Dance fairy, fairy bright, What a truly happy sight, Let those tiny feet away To a place of fun and play. Make your wings of silver hue Take you to the lily zoo, To the courts of croaking kings, Where the handsome Frog Prince sings.

Dance dance fairy, fairy bright Skip across the clouds so light, Jump as far as skyward can, Higher higher little man. Glide upon the rush of air With the birds that fly up there, And when all the playing's done Take those wings and fly back home.

Artwork: Fairies by Francis Danby (British, 1793 - 1861)

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Autumn Song

By Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf How the heart feels a languid grief Laid on it for a covering, And how sleep seems a goodly thing In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?

And how the swift beat of the brain Falters because it is in vain, In Autumn at the fall of the leaf Knowest thou not? and how the chief Of joys seems—not to suffer pain?

Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf How the soul feels like a dried sheaf Bound up at length for harvesting, And how death seems a comely thing In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?

🍂Illustration • Waiting for Autumn • Francisco Fonseca

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“I am not the first person you loved. You are not the first person I looked at with a mouthful of forevers. We have both known loss like the sharp edges of a knife. We have both lived with lips more scar tissue than skin. Our love came unannounced in the middle of the night. Our love came when we’d given up on asking love to come. I think that has to be part of its miracle.

This is how we heal. I will kiss you like forgiveness. You will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms will bandage and we will press promises between us like flowers in a book. I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat on your skin. I will write novels to the scar of your nose. I will write a dictionary of all the words I have used trying to describe the way it feels to have finally, finally found you.

And I will not be afraid of your scars.

I know sometimes it’s still hard to let me see you in all your cracked perfection, but please know: whether it’s the days you burn more brilliant than the sun or the nights you collapse into my lap your body broken into a thousand questions, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I will love you when you are a still day. I will love you when you are a hurricane.”

~ Clementine von Radics

💓Digital Painting • Waiting for the Train

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Hour Before Dark • Anastasia Trusova

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“A well-read woman is a dangerous creature.” ~ Lisa Kleypas

📕Illustration • Dark Academia Vibes • Elodie Who

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Who Has Seen the Wind?

By Christina Rossetti

Who has seen the wind? Neither I nor you; But when the leaves hang trembling, The wind is passing through.

Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I; But when the trees bow down their heads, The wind is passing by.