Awake At 2am ..

in WORLD OF XPILAR4 years ago

An original oil painting and short story to accompany it. I am no writer, but like to put the thoughts that are in my head, on paper, no matter how silly they may seem. Sometimes it is just as fun as painting the scene. I jot them down without much editing, like free writing. Please enjoy them.. if not, I hope the painting will be.

A painting titled 'Awake At 2am'..

Awake at 2 a.m. and I start by placing my pen to paper in an attempt to find out who I am, who I want to be, and who I will ultimately become. I want to know who has influenced my development, my personality, my values, and my decisions thus far. I know I’m not the same as everyone else. There are a variety of traits and quarks that set me apart, distinguishing me from other people; those things that make me an individual. But how different am I really? I work, pay bills, watch the news, eat out, complain, cry, laugh, worry, sleep, breathe in, and breathe out. I guess what sets me apart, what truly sets me apart, are my choices. They are my choices. They are my decisions. They are what I claim as my own. They are my accomplishments as well as my mistakes. They are my "oh no what have I done(s)". They are me, and this.. is MY life.. at 2am.

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'Awake at 2am' ~ Oil on canvas by BDMiller

I Hear The Spooky Old Night Owl ..

Hoot Hoot Hooooot. She is only bothersome when I am lying awake at 2 am, as I am right now, trying to focus or the replay of events from the day that's past. Reliving the moments as to find the hidden meaning in life and its brevity. The noises from the bird of prey cease as another noise takes it's place. This time the the night breeze was rustling through the trash, discarded by the daylight street walkers in their masses of disregard. They push and shove their way past each other, never recognizing a single face, littering little pieces of their routine through my neighborhood. Bags made of plastic, tattered and torn, find themselves caught on twigs and under the bushes. Cigarette butts roll past my walkway into a little pile, hiding at the edges of the grass. I see them in my mind rolling a little this way or that, but never leaving their group. Nature is not embracing their existence. They will never fit in and never be useful for more than a minute or two. My fingers smell of sweet, stale smoke, after I bend over to pick them up one by one. But why am I thinking about this now. There must be a good reason that my senses are heightened at 2am.

I Look Out Of My Little Window ..

Toward the night sky. I see the moon shining gently through the thin clouds that cover the abundance of starry specks. It appears that the lights are on in the house across from mine. It's a much taller house, with dusty old, faded drapes that are partially covering the window panes. I don't see any movement, but my eyes are not seeing clearly in their present hazy state. Maybe the moons rays bounce from the panes of glass, momentarily reflecting from the darkness that lurks inside those walls. Gentle, sleeping souls without worry or concern, sleep quietly as time ticks by for them. The click, click, click of the clock is the only noise they have to overcome to fall into blissful rem. Before turning my back to the window I am framed by, I notice the black outlines of our resident maple tree. She is barren of leaves and the wind whistles through her branches, silhouetted against the night sky. She stands as tall as a tree her age and size could, between the two towering homes that dauntingly stand on either side.

Hoot Hoot ..

The owl again calls out to the night and returns to what nature beckons of it. I realize it's well after 2 am and I was unable to tie back the hands of time. The paper is blank and the pen still in my hand. Must I return to my bed and sort out all that has not happened yet today? I succumb to time, as I lay my head onto a pillow in hopes of dreams filled with sounds of ticking clocks and rem sleep. In reality I am alone with my pestering thoughts. Thoughts that have become very familiar. Thoughts that I should be jotting down on paper. I think that I've grown to find comfort in them.


Part of this post was originally posted on March 17, 2018 on Steemit


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“Sleep my little baby-oh

Sleep until you waken
When you wake you'll see the world
If I'm not mistaken...

Kiss a lover
Dance a measure,
Find your name
And buried treasure...

Face your life
Its pain,
Its pleasure,
Leave no path untaken.”
― Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book

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Thank you for swinging by my blog and checking out the post. Have a great day!

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All words, pictures and art pieces are the sole property of B D Miller Gallery, unless otherwise noted and credited, and are not to be reproduced or copied without the prior written consent of B D Miller Gallery.

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About Me ~ The Artist

My art work incorporates a wide variety of subject matter, including landscape, seascape, cityscape, and still life images. My works are the product of a continuing process of exploration through which I seek to portray personal and visionary interpretations of my surroundings. My paintings are impressions of places and events from everyday life, an interpretation of my imagination, and personal responses to what I see and feel on a daily basis. More recently I have invested generous amounts of time into my landscape painting. I am surrounded by natural and man made beauty, which inherently presents itself in the tri-state area, and almost demands that I paint it.

Not everything is art. Art is not everything, but it comes close. Art is everywhere and all the time. Art makes you experience the beauty of the world, the people in it, and the places we call home. Art itself is so influential that it can tell stories, show feelings, and express passion or fury. Art exists in addition to language; expression of sensations and thoughts, revealing a way of thinking too subtle and delicate for words.

For me art requires love, honesty and perseverance. In return, it reveals some personal, non-analyzable, and creative untamed passion. For the public, art with its magnificent beauty, improves mood and health and builds better human beings and communities. It engages the intellect, softens the heart, strengthens the soul and frees the spirit.

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If Your Interested In Purchasing Any Of My Work:

They can be found for sale on

Saatchi Art

Or

Etsy

If you don't see the piece in either shop, It may still be drying. Let me know and I can upload it as soon as possible to be available. Or you can always make me an offer (in SBD, STEEM or any other crypto) in the comments section of this post. If we agree on a price, I will then ship the painting to you. (shipping costs will be determined by your location).

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A Steemit Post

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I'm awake at 2am right along with you. Fabulous poem too. Excellent post.

Our surroundings are so much different at 2, 3 or 4 am. I chose to focus more on the creepy side of things. haha.

Didn't seem at all creepy to me. It has that contemplative,other worldliness that I experience when most things are asleep, only the coyotes making a ruckus when they score a kill, cats fighting or procreating, skunks skulking. The night creatures spur different thoughts. Maybe their thoughts are infusing mine. Very primal. Like your writings here. Cool painting too, I really like it. Did I say that already? Same feel.

I missed this comment. I swore I posted a response, and I am sorry for missing it.

I like your comment better than my short story. I should have included the fighting and love making cats! haha. Thanks for the compliments too. I was on the edge of whether I was liking this painting or not. I feel better now!

Anything I can do to help!!!

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Support of Visual Artworks and Photogrpahy on Steem by @stef1 and @art-venture , rewarded by the Steem Community Curation Project ( @steemcurator08 ).

Thank you guys for the support!

 4 years ago 

As a photographer I rarely go to sleep before 2AM :D Nice story!


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I can only imagine.. and you find time for Steemit some how. I don't know how you manage. Thank you for the support!! I appreciate it :-)

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