Taking a break from the Capriccios while I decide if the series is complete. / I painted the house years earlier than I got the new ink. / In light that I consider myself fairly perceptive I did not see the similarity between the walls and my skin for months after.
Architecture design
Part of the Interior Series. Oil on Canvas / /
From drizzle to drowning. From dawn to middle of the night dreams that wake me up with a “pow.” That’s it. The answer. Then in the morning the drift falls from a darkened hollow into swirls of vapor and across a seaweed forest. My pencil scrapes. My brush strokes. Awaken. Awake to dream again. A struggle to find an answer that is forgotten in the effort to do do do what I think I must must must and drive myself crazy trying to escape. To sleep on my feet in a daydream of forest palms towering over and pools of languid, blue, mirrors instead of piles of dirty laundry. Or maybe it is all really the same. / The answer laying in the soft white shift of a sheet from a drier in sunlight and waving at the light’s own laughter at the sun. / acrylic on fabric. about 4 ft x 7 ft not stretched. Order high quality cards and prints of this artwork on this Website in a variety of sizes and styles. For information on original or use of image please contact John Fish
acrylic on stretched canvas Gone to the USA Paul Stephen …, 2 days ago / I really loved this the colours the lines, the composition, the style it ’s really almost too gorgeous and beautiful for words to express. / Paul, host M.I.A.
Interior of a bar in Mesilla, New Mexico. The two fellows were about to get off work and go home when I shot the photo for this painting. 24×36 Sold to the Vice-President of The National Oil and Acrylic Painters Society which I Have been a member of for several years.
I am fascinated by different kinds of light on form. This image was meant to bring a feeling of a cold winter evening….long ago.
Photoshop and Corel Painter. /
WALKING MEDITATION Take my hand. / We will walk. / We will only walk. / We will enjoy our walk / without thinking of arriving anywhere. / Walk peacefully. / Walk happily. / Our walk is a peace walk. / Our walk is a happiness walk. Then we learn / that there is no peace walk; / that peace is the walk; / that there is no happiness walk; / that happiness is the walk. / We walk for ourselves. / We walk for everyone / always hand in hand. Walk and touch peace every moment. / Walk and touch happiness every moment. / Each step brings a fresh breeze. / Each step makes a flower bloom under our feet. / Kiss the Earth with your feet. / Print on Earth your love and happiness. Earth will be safe / when we feel in us enough safety. / - Thich Nhat Hanh -
This painting was created with interior house paint on canvas / H26” x W50” / Black Matte Gallery Frame / 2007 / 1800.00 “Faceless,” is dedicated to all the woman and girls who suffer injustices all over the world, and remain faceless to world. Although I created this image in 2007, and had titled it “Girls,” I didn’t fully realize what it meant until just this week. In the news, a husband kills his wife, by placing a plastic bag over her head, hangs her, and flees with the three children after countless please for help to local authorities. A father is convicted of keeping his daughter locked up as a sex slave for 24 years. Daughter now 42. Many females are enslaved, murdered, raped, tortured all over the world, and many more will remain faceless to us. Stop, think, and listen.
The young barman at the right seems tired and ready to go home…..or is he gazing at the female patron with some other kind of interest? You decide….! / oil on canvas 20×30
gouache and pencil on paper
Colourful green glass in the afternoon light just delights
“Oddly uplifting,” Mrs. Delmo remarked as she passed the gated sanctuary of a film mogul. Her friend, Bartholomew, drifted in and out of her sentences as they walked quickly down the wide avenue that divided the rich and the poor of the village. / Delmo continued, “I really like the way the different stories are balanced on top of each other like a wedding cake. The man that lives there is supposed to only spend about two weeks out of the year in the house. I think it’s a waste. And,” She tilted her head forward and closer to Bartholomew as if sharing a secret. “I’ve always thought to have a house that big is a sin.” / They turned and crossed the street and headed back toward their shabby but quaint apartment building three blocks away. Bartholomew craned his neck to view a fleeting image of the estate which was shrouded by mist, vegetation and dreams. He tried to focus on the splinters of light that sparked from behind enormous pine trees. A stream of white smoke twirled and tossed through tree tops and then the house was gone. Only a gaping black hole remained. / He started to grab Mrs. Delmo’s shoulder to call her attention to the disappearance and the stopped himself. / Maybe he was imagining things. Or maybe she was right. Maybe it was a sin and this was sign from God. / No, he told himself. That wasn’t possible. He secretly didn’t believe in God. He felt religion and spirituality to me no more fairy tales. / Undoubtedly there was some logical explanation. / Aliens. / That was it. / The house had been abducted. / He continued on the nightly walk and began to wonder if this walking was really helping him to lose weight. He doubted it in that he usually rewarded himself with a huge bowl of ice cream upon returning to his studio apartment. Besides that, listening to the old woman’s chatter was beginning to get on his nerves. Most of what she said was either gossip or repetition of silly ignorant notions involving her simplistic view of the universe. / He decided, as he stepped over a puddle that reflected a bronze and blue flying saucer that passed overhead, to make some excuse to stay home tomorrow. That was it. Stay home and watch TV.
“Island 2” / By John Fish, 1009. Acrylics on paper 14”x22” / Sheltered by the wings of sparrows, he flung himself from the twisted acrylic sheet and hoped to fly higher than his buried yearnings for peace and farther than his underscored longing for excitement. Instead, he found himself unable to do anything but walk, one step at a time over a rocky hillside overlooking a shore where waves of fears pounded stones into sand. / He wedged himself in a cave and kept sharp lookout for attackers. When he was sure there were none, he reached out and realized that he couldn’t fly. Yet he did not fall in that he was able to float. Briefly he wondered, “Why?” before his brain went blank and he simply enjoyed the view.
Watercolor painting on 1/2 sheet Fabriano hot-pressed paper.
Santa Barbara / 36” x 36” / Oil
Sunlight streaming in to light the beautiful painted ceiling of Melbourne’s Royal Exhibition Building dome.
yes, part of the art deco series-I was in pattern mode. Pink, pattern and envelope yellow-all part of my ‘complement people’s interior living’ series. I was seriously into interior decorating- if only I’d got this out when grandma chic was in! Maybe it’s still retro enough to look good in your house! I could change the colours to be more art noveau. up to you….
Acrylics and ink on watercolour paper
Try all my chairs / Find yours and rest for a while…
the last in this small series of black and white analouge images from a long time ago… the three images together formed the basis of a large five part exhibition a l had way back then…. the series was later bought by the Art Gallery of SA and exhitited along side works by Anslem Keifer….. this image also appears elsewhere in my portfolio as a handcoloured image…. / . / . /
Fauvist style painting of room with black wall and fuschia door. with red chair
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