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May 12th, 2017
May 6th, 2017
May 6th, 2017
April 17th, 2017
December 25th, 2016
December 3rd, 2016
December 6th, 2015
The Russian Futurist Vladimir Mayakovsky was moved when he first saw it in 1925, as he described in his poem "Brooklyn Bridge:"
...it stretches on cables of string
to the feet of the stars.
I stare
as an eskimo gapes at a train,
I seize on it
as a tick fastens to an ear.
Brooklyn Bridge--
yes....
That's quite a thing!
October 12th, 2015
East Village, located in lower Manhattan is where I live. It is filled with many colorful characters. Early one morning I was going out for coffee and I just had to take a photograph of this man on his early-morning walk. It brought to my mind Oscar Wilde quote, " Be Yourself everyone else is taken"
September 17th, 2015
SCISSOR DANCE
Jukebox rocks, two dozen hardworking dusty men,
Bent elbows lean, Gold liquid flows
Glass rises, lit cigarettes talk.
She poses on a white piano bar,
scantily clad; slow moving, bending,
grinding, shaking, gyrating.
She blows kisses
to admiring eyes
with lustful wishes.
Cleo's little girl dream
of being rescued
fades with each midnight hour.
She spins around, steelscissors held high.
Scissors reflect mirrored walls;
penetrates smoky beer air.
The scissor flashes down
cutting a hole above her heart.
Cleo offers the red satin circle,
Keepsake for the trucker who watches.
He believes, "She dances for me."
He offers up a dead President.
She cuts a hole here
cuts a hole there.
Soon she can start her own government.
It's hard to know where
first hole began or
last hole ends.
September 4th, 2015
August 17th, 2015
My home away from home
My seaside place,
Twice the size of my everyday space.
No Clutter, white walls;
Perfumed soap gift wrapped
Waiting for my return.
Sliding glass doors
Overlooking Atlantic ocean.
Sounds of the sea rock me asleep.
Ten blocks away, neon Casino lights.
My secret place; self- contained:
Restaurant, pool, movie theatre, gym.
I brought a lover once
His presence is long gone
Room 803, by the sea, is meant for me.
From my balcony I see a grand old brick mansion.
Three stories high, freshly painted wooden shutters,
Stain glass,wrap around balconies. Water-less fountain.
I spy the windows for signs of life.
A man enters a side door, only to leave soon after;
One out-side light burns all night.
I imagine a gray- haired lady lives there alone.
Her grandson checks on her everyday.
She knows Atlantic City in its hayday.
I want to drink a cup of tea with her and listen to her memories.
Did her family build the boardwalk; the steel pier?
Who was the love of her life? Is she happy still being here?
The gift of living long.
A treasure trove: landmark moments.
It only takes a listening ear to bring them back to life.
My grandmother Eva, born in Atlantic City, 1920.
Great grand parents, Banford, left England, settled by the sea.
Atlantic Avenue where they lived, I walked by in wonderment.
I imagine a gray- haired lady who lives alone in the mansion
Holds the keys to my family’s past.
If only we could have a cup of tea.
July 19th, 2015
April 18th, 2015
A Kitten Poem by Eleanor Farjeon
He's nothing much but fur
And two round eyes of blue,
He has a giant purr
And a midget mew.
He darts and pats the air,
He starts and cocks his ear,
When there is nothing there
For him to see and hear.
He runs around in rings,
But why we cannot tell;
With sideways leaps he springs
At things invisible -
Then half-way through a leap
His startled eyeballs close,
And he drops off to sleep With one paw on his nose.
April 11th, 2015
“When one door closes, another door opens; but we so often look so long and regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us.”
Alexander Graham Bell
On March 26, I have just returned from a ten-day trip. I thought I'd get a bite to eat and come home and rest. I walked down East Seventh Street in the East Village, where I live; turned the corner and started to walk up St. Mark's place. I heard a huge blast: It sounded like two Mack trucks smashing into each other. People started to run towards the blast, I didn't, I knew whatever it was it was bad.
I walked back to my apartment and called a friend who told me to hurry, pack a bag and get out of there. While I was packing, the police rang my bell and told me to vacate. I looked out the window it was smokey and the smell reminded me of 9/11. We lost three buildings that day and over a hundred people lost their homes and two people lost their lives. Many times I have complained about how small my apartment is and the fact that I have to walk up four flights to get to it. Now, I'm thankful I have a roof over my head and I pray that the people who lost their homes will be helped to find new ones. This showed me that it doesn't matter how old you are or what your circumstances are in life you never know what tomorrow will bring. So, I try to live my life to the fullest and not sweat the small stuff.
visit my Blog: New York City Artist
April 9th, 2015
Sleep before Midnight
by Joan Reese
Hot chamomile tea, sipped from rose colored porcelain cup
Quiets my nerves, ensuring a deep sleep.
Rain drops beat windowpane like a steel drum.
Lighting cracks, slicing open my unconscious.
Departed souls wordless influence;
Their presence feels like Florida august sun.
My Egyptian cotton sheets scented with Channel No. 5
Holds a treasure trove of dreams.
Woke up and found a poem on my pillow,
The color of lake mist rising.
Wrapped the poem around me like a thick down comforter,
Strengthening me for the daily race…
March 14th, 2014
St. Patricks day is next week and it was my mother's favorite holiday. I wrote this poem in her honor and choose this painting to represent the poem. We had a wonderful conversation a week before she passed. I carry her words with me. As I get older I realize each day is a gift. I try to live each day as though it is my last.
My mother said before she departed,
Sitting in her garden among red clover;
“Snap your fingers and it is over!”
“Life is like a sailboat in waters, uncharted,
Some rough, some calm,” moreover;
My mother said before she departed.
“The best you can be is good hearted,
Carefully walk; Straits of Dover,
Snap your fingers and it is over!”
Words of wisdom my mother imparted,
“No one lives forever,” moreover,
“Snap your fingers, and it is over! ’’
My mother said before she departed.
March 14th, 2014
Delighted, that Sandra Tyler, Editor-in-chief of "The Woven Tale" chose my art to feature in this month's issue. Sandra found my artwork on my blog:
"The New York City Artist." http://joanreesearts.blogspot.com She chose four abstract paintings. She illustrated a story with one of my black and white photographs. Her publication is an eclectic mix from the creative web.
February 8th, 2014
So many people love Marilyn Monroe as much as I do. When I was a little girl I wrote in my diary I want to be like M M. I collected photographs of her and kept them for many years. I still wear her signature red lipstick. Now that I have a good scanner, I'm going to scan in these old photos and enhance the look with my digital painting programs. You subscribe to my website to see my progress, thank you
Please follow my art blog:http://joanreesearts.blogspot.com
February 8th, 2014
Valentine's Gift. Nothing says "You're Special" like an original hand-painted silk scarf. Complementary gift wrapping, free shipping and a 5 x 7 greeting card from my latest collection. Order ASAP for prompt delivery. I created a 10% discount for FAA members. Use code: hearts special
Please follow my art blog:http://joanreesearts.blogspot.com
January 5th, 2014
I am pairing my paintings or photographs with my poetry. First, I wrote the poem "The Journey" and then I photographed a hobbyhorse. I don't remember anyone choosing the stationary hobbyhorse, do you?
The Journey
Rushing for first choice
Glossy red and gold carrousel horse
Slides high then low
On polished pole.
Bells, whistles, hundreds of blinking lights.
Mobile stallions
Tightly held by adventurous spirits.
Cushioned benches cradle timid souls.
Merry Go Round
Goes round and round
Up and down, up and down
My horses’ colors fade;
Jerks, sticks, squeaks.
Leather strap holds me captive.
My head dizzy like a spinning top.
“Let me off,” my voice loss
Among organ music filled air.
In the basement of my mind, I’m crying
“It’s all a mistake,
I didn’t buy a ticket!
December 26th, 2013
When I was in fourth grade, I had a music teacher named Mr. Walton. I don't know how many times we sang this song, "Climb Every Mountain."
The words still resonate with me now as they did when I was 10 years old. I feel, following your dreams makes life worth living.
Climb every mountain,
Ford every stream,
Follow every rainbow,
'Till you find your dream.
A dream that will need
All the love you can give,
Every day of your life
For as long as you live.
December 19th, 2013
Catholic churches are my favorite places to pray when no one else is there. Whenever I travel I always stop in a beautiful church. I love the ambience, the smell of incense, the amber light of the candles. I was always fascinated by the statues of the Saints, since I was a little girl attending Catholic school.
I thought at one time I would become a nun. I used to wrap a towel around my head and face and make-believe I was wearing a habit. I still don't understand how the Nuns in my day wore those long heavy black dresses and habits. My goal in 2014, is to photograph the Saints in all of the Catholic churches in New York City. Please let me know if there's any specific Catholic Church in New York City that you would like me to go visit and photograph. If you're interested in seeing my progress please subscribe to my website.
December 12th, 2013
November 29th, 2013
Always with a camera in my pocketbook I'm ready when I find interesting characters on the street. Luckily, I live in one of the most colorful places, on the planet; East Village located in Manhattan, New York. I moved here in the 70s while I was a art student at the School of Visual Arts. I've seen many changes in the last few decades. When I moved here, I felt it was the real deal: it was all artists, poets and actors,etc. We still have a few of these interesting people that walk around the neighborhood. Is a great place to sit out at a café in the spring or summer time and watch the crowd go by. My passion is travel and I travel quite a bit. But I always love coming back to my neighborhood. I feel the most comfortable living here and I don't plan to ever move. Please subscribe to my blog, I upload photos on a daily basis. I have hundreds of photographs dating back to the 1970s. Have a happy holiday.
November 21st, 2013
November 18th, 2013
Took this photo on Veterans Day 2013.
McSorley's Old Ale House has been a gathering place, a watering hole, the subject of art and literature and even a supreme court controversy. Established in 1854 - McSorley's can boast of being New York City's oldest continuously operated saloon. Everyone from Abe Lincoln to John Lennon have passed thru Mcsorley's swinging doors. Woody Guthrie inspired the union movement from a table in the front - guitar in hand, while civil rights attorney's Faith Seidenberg and Karen DeCrow had to take their case to the Supreme Court to gain access. Women were finally allowed access to McSorley�s in 1970! Enter the sawdust strewn floors and history patched walls for a trip back through time. Share the McSorley's experience with the spirits of 150 years!Posted:
November 14th, 201
November 14th, 2013
The Holidays are a busy time for me. I paint "one of a kind" silk scarves. I find it, much harder to paint on silk than paper or canvas. It is a much more technical process and labor intensive. I use imported french dyes, overlapping colors using a wax resist. When I am finished painting, the silk is steamed for two hours to set the colors and make them permanent.
A silk scarf can last a lifetime, when taken care of. I have silk scarves that where given to me over twenty years ago and still look brand new.
They make the perfect gift! Visit my Etsy shop and see if there is one you love.
November 10th, 2013
Took this photo while staying at the Irish Inn. 2012 The history of the Irish Pub dates back to the 19th century. It has survived hurricanes, prohibition, two world wars, high tides and low tides. It has fed the famous and infamous. Being situated on St. James Place & the Boardwalk in Atlantic City,NJ. It has been identified with the game of Monopoly and the red hotels used in the game are based on the architecture of the Irish Pub.
October 29th, 2013
This is one of my favorite photo's of Zippy my pet Lovebird. I had pet birds all my life, but, zippy was very special. So sweet, funny and very affectionate. When ever I was on the computer he always tried to get my attention. He lived 14 years and passed away 4 years ago. I don't think I will ever get another bird again, no bird could replace Zippy.
October 28th, 2013
My original silk paintings on silk scarves are available on my Esty shop. I studied Chinese painting with a master painter in N.Y.C. Chinatown.
I love the way the dyes flow on the silk. They are so beautiful to wear, it is hard for me to part with them. So, now with FineArtsAmerica I can share the image of them.
October 27th, 2013
October 27th, 2013
October 24th, 2013
"Happy," to announce I chose Fine Arts America to reproduce my paintings and photographs. They are rated #1 in quality printing for the art community.
You will be able to order my art framed, canvas prints, acrylic prints, metal prints and greeting cards. I ordered one of my paintings printed on a greeting card. It looked great! I liked the fact you can inscribe the inside of the card with a personal message and they will print it for you.
Hope you enjoy my work as much as I do creating it!