Tag Archives: painting
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Painting in Progress

16 May

Painting in Progress

The newest painting I’m working on, to be completed and ready to show off at the Seraphine Music and Arts Jubilee: https://www.facebook.com/events/282583538563781/

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~A Day for Lovers~

14 Feb

Happy Valentine’s Day, fellow bloggers!
To celebrate, I give you pieces of my HeArt….
XOXO

Also, here are my music recommendations for this day, and well, every other day, too.

Bedroom Eyes by Dum Dum Girls
First Love Never Die by Soko
You Really Got A Hold On Me by She & Him
Fake It by Candypants
Things Change by Caitlin Rose
Together by Earl Lee Grace
Anyway You Like It by Holly Golightly
It’s All Okay by Julia Stone
AND….Dear Johnny by Miss Derringer

Link

www.facebook.com/maiharrisart

1 Jan

https://www.facebook.com/#!/maiharrisart?fref=ts

I am so excited to see what direction my art work evolves into over this new year. I thought I would start it off by compiling a portfolio of all of my best paintings from the past three years. You can see it by following this link to my fb page.

Happy New Year!

New Work

15 Nov

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Still in need of a few small edits (there’s a ghost hand in one of these), and later I’ll post titles, prices, sizes, etc., but here’s all the new work!

God-sent kind of day

14 Nov

ImageI returned to my studio this morning to find that my paintings are a lot better off than I remember leaving them, which I think has given me the last push of motivation I needed to FINALLY finish this series. Today, hopefully.

I won’t spend much time writing so I can get to work, but I will leave you with a poem I found while transferring into a new journal. 

Reasons:

Fucking the world in a cold sweet hot exhale on some sudden winter night
Christmas Eve wrapped around your soul with a devil studded bow.
Cherries on top, up above the universe through your heart’s own carnival.
Your tongue bleeds sugar.
You’re seeping out salt water and standing as strong as a wave crashing over a fiery moon.
Sweat leaks out into the air. 
Syrup that’s as pink as my organs, black as my lungs, bitter as whiskey.
Fingers dragging with passion across milk that moves with jello heaves of pleasure,
and pain and hate and shame and orgasm.
This breeds every organism that is the composite of death and love and art and any other enigma that is the point, the purpose of breathing in and out every day,
over and over again as if you never dreamed of stopping long enough to feel relief,
only to realize the price was everything.