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Acrylic impasto on stretched canvas
12″ × 12″
I’m so excited to introduce my new series which has been in the planning stages for some months as I gathered inspiration and ideas together. I decided to start the new series on the first day of 2013 as I was REALLY inspired to do so.
I had a really wonderful thing happen as I was working on this. I was in my studio and all I could smell were flowers the whole time I was painting. I will add that I have no flowers in my garden at present and I didn’t even have the window open. It was such a lovely way for God to let me know He was blessing my new series.
The series will depict men, women holding staffs, swords, sometimes with horses, or even religious items to depict that they are Defenders of Truth. This painting is the first one in the series and I can’t tell you how happy I am with the end result. In fact, so happy that my heart was beating loudly and I had tears in my eyes. That doesn’t happen often! It happens when I know I’ve reached the emotional connection I wanted to achieve. For me, this is a beautiful and deeply religious piece but is certainly a painting that will easily capture many hearts for many reasons, not just the one I have intended for the painting.
The horse is a most magnificent Andalusian.
Painting features my signature gold paint highlights for the bridle buckles, around the edges of the bridle, horse, mane, in the fabric, along the staff and around the edges of the knight.
The Captive Knight
By a loophole, I sit in my prison,
Could see the blue of the heaven from there,
I feel sharp pain and a shame at the vision
Of heedless birds, freely playing in air.
On my dry lips, I’ve not any prayers,
Nor any songs, that have ever to fly on,
But I remember the ancient battles,
My heavy sword and my coat of iron.
My stony armor – the cross I’m to bear,
My stony helmet compresses my brow,
My shield’s worn from a sword and a spear,
My horse takes roads – I don’t now how.
Time is my horse that stays always my own,
A helmet’s mask-visor – the grate on a hole,
The walls are my armor that’s made of the stone,
My permanent shield is the door’s iron fold.
Time! I desire to speed your hooves’ rattle!
My stony armor is heavy to rise on!
Death, when we’ve come, will help me by the saddle;
I will dismount and rise up my visor.