here comes the flood #7

I am knee deep into my flood series, again. Wading through the waters of my youth---as a child in texas our farm would have serious floods once a year--sometimes the water would be few foot deep and last for days. I used to walk around the farm in the flood and watch fish and creatures swim through what was once a field. that memory is burned into my brain and is a wonderful memory. The flood would come in and clean out the world and always leave behind new things. I see a correlation in this and the idea of a psychic flood--a cleansing of the soul and mind and spirit in which new things are left behind and the old way is washed away. Not as in brain washing but in a positive sense of growth and letting go of the past. Wash away the anger, the negative and the things that limit/ control/ ruin our lives. It makes sense to paint these in watercolors. These are my only minimal/ "modern" works--I call them "zen inspired."


one of my favorite songs is "here comes the flood" by gabriel I listen to it when I paint my flood series.

When the night shows
The signals grow on radios
All the strange things
They come and go, as early warnings
Stranded starfish have no place to hide
Still waiting for the swollen Easter tide
There's no point in direction we cannot
Even choose a side.

I took the old track
The hollow shoulder, across the waters
On the tall cliffs
They were getting older, sons and daughters
The jaded underworld was riding high
Waves of steel hurled metal at the sky
And as the nail sunk in the cloud, the rain
Was warm and soaked the crowd.

Lord, here comes the flood
We'll say goodbye to flesh and blood
If again the seas are silent
In any still alive
It'll be those who gave their island to survive
Drink up, dreamers, you're running dry.

When the flood calls
You have no home, you have no walls
In the thunder crash
You're a thousand minds, within a flash
Don't be afraid to cry at what you see
The actors gone, there's only you and me
And if we break before the dawn, they'll
Use up what we used to be.

Lord, here comes the flood
We'll say goodbye to flesh and blood
If again the seas are silent
In any still alive
It'll be those who gave their island to survive
Drink up, dreamers, you're running dry.