Oil on canvas

8” x 10”

 

inspired the poems 

 

SAWKILL NIGHT

 

A summer night

taking a leisurely walk

near the Sawkill Creek

the little falls

so inviting to see

on a muggy night

crickets and tree frogs

playing their music

the cool rock slabs

easy to sit upon

I lean forward and dip

my hand into the creek

what a lovely feeling

as the cool water passes

between my fingers

the day’s stress

disappear into the

Sawkill

 

— © Michelle DeCicco

 

THE OTHER SIDE

 

I walked out the door in anger

and followed the black water into the night. 

 

I can't always bear to be myself, 

and I'd rather broadcast my dark mood to the murk 

than to spill it all 

onto the barman's counter.

 

How are you of any use to the world, 

any more than the rest of them 

warming a stool in there?

 

On my path, on this night, 

I feel as though I cast no shadow, 

and there are none to mark my passage 

nor deflect my course.

 

Who, I chide myself, is not discontented 

by their own impotence before the million sorrows 

that beset us at every moment? 

 

The inside of my head rings with my own indictments.

Beside me the black water rustles and burbles,

a soft counter-point to my internal torrent.

 

How can I justify myself to myself? 

To know I cannot do enough, how can I live with that?

The certain knowledge of my ultimate failure....

 

Not far ahead, the sound of water falling on stones; 

not a cataract or even a tumult, but more 

a churlish splish-splash just beyond my view.

 

 

 

 

I can see there is so much more 

that I need to learn about myself,

And now even the old answers don't

seem true enough.

 

I step out on the rocks, 

and sit as close as I can to the bubbly Sawkill,

a very modest waterfall, 

to listen a while in the hope

that she might share her strength

and school me in the ways of the droplet, 

both mighty and fleeting.

 

The black water I had been following 

makes a modest ruckus now

where it rushes over the edge,

and even by the faintest wisp of moon light 

from the sliver overhead, 

the water shines silver and precious 

as it leaps and splashes down 

into the lively pool.

 

Sparkling briefly the water froths

and foams; 

then its beauty spent, 

it resumes its ignominious course downstream, 

while behind and above, 

just enough more of it, 

gathered from all the hills 

and all the leaves of the trees, 

from all the rains and snows, 

gushes after, to make one moment's

joyous little cascade into 

a continuous pageant.

 

I can see there is so much more 

that I need to learn about myself,

And now even the old answers don't

seem true enough.

 

I step out on the rocks, 

and sit as close as I can to the bubbly Sawkill,

a very modest waterfall, 

to listen a while in the hope

that she might share her strength

and school me in the ways of the droplet, 

both mighty and fleeting.

 

— © Jonathan Pazer

 

 

ARTIST BIOGRAPHY


Linda Lynton is a British born artist now living in Woodstock after a journalistic/editorial career in New York City. She returned to her first love, Art, in 2013 and focuses on all aspects of nature, from sweeping landscapes to detailed drawings of small natural elements all found in the Hudson Valley. She uses two genres--oil painting and ink drawing--to express her deep respect for nature and wild places. Her plein air and studio work in oils is vigorous, active and colorful, having been influenced by her experiences in India with its vibrant tropical palette. Her ink drawings (often enhanced with natural dyes) expresses her fascination with the detailed use of line, stemming from many childhood experiences with Persian miniatures and botanical art.

"Sawkill Night" Linda Lynton

$250.00Price

    Emerge Gallery & Art Space

    228A Main Street, Saugerties, NY  (845) 247-7515

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