The Lord is my Shepherd

I painted this pastoral seascape with sheep because I always had a secret wish as a young girl to be a Shepherdess and live in the countryside surrounded by nature.

" The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever."

"A Psalm of David. A 3000 year-old -POEM PRAYER I love so very much. 

What does it mean that the Lord is my Shepherd 

( Psalm 23) ?

The Secret of The Sea

 

Ah! what pleasant visions haunt me
As I gaze upon the sea!
All the old romantic legends,
All my dreams, come back to me

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 

The Secret of the Sea - 2024 

The Secret of the Sea 

- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Ah! what pleasant visions haunt me

As I gaze upon the sea!

All the old romantic legends,

All my dreams, come back 

to me. 

 

Till my soul is full of longing

For the secret of the sea,

And the heart of the great ocean

Sends a thrilling pulse through me.

LISTEN 

 Secrets of The Sea ~ by Greg Maroney

'Ah! What pleasant visions haunt me As I gaze upon the sea!' - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I'm haunted and bewitched by the beautiful celestial image I witnessed with my family on April 8th, 2024, of the solar eclipse. I find myself painting white suns these days. Even after bringing an unwanted hitchhiker home from the event, the tick : ) He, as well, was curious and wanted to see. I suppose he had an excellent place to watch from : )

The cliff and water need more work. Maybe add something else to the painting as well.

WIP ACRYLIC PAINTING 10 X 8 CANVAS

NIGHT GALLERY

NIGHT GALLERY on Etsy Original Painting

Rod Serling's Night Gallery, The Art of Darkness. Back in the late 1960s, one of my favorite shows I loved watching was Night Gallery. Rod Serling would start the show by presenting each horror tale in a painting he had in an Art Gallery. Artist Thomas J. Wright was the artist behind all of the spooky artwork. Rod Serling would introduce each story of every episode with one of Wright's eerie paintings. The Cemetery was one of my very favorites. I painted over a painting I did some time ago inspired by Night Gallery's The Cemetery. Adding Florence the Ghost and Bat to The Cemetery just seemed perfectly haunting. This Original Painting, Night Gallery will soon be available on Etsy. Mixed Media ORIGINAL PAINTING "Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace.” ― Oscar Wilde, The Canterville Ghost ♥️ Annabelle & M ♥️ © 2023
a Mixed Media ORIGINAL PAINTING
"Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace.”
― Oscar Wilde, The Canterville Ghost
♥️ Annabelle & M ♥️
© 2023 @batandmaggie

DO NOT STAND BY MY GRAVE , AND WEEP

Florence Blume - A Ghost Story {Merrickville} Annabelle&M © 2023

Do not stand

By my grave, and weep.

I am not there,

I do not sleep—

I am a thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond glints in snow

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle, autumn rain.

As you awake with morning’s hush,

I am the swift, up-flinging rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight,

I am the day transcending night.

Do not stand

By my grave, and cry—

I am not there,

I did not die.

-Clare Harner 1934 

When words and music touch my soul...listen

Mariage d'amour - Paul de Senneville

@batandmaggie @hauntedwalk @rideau_walkingtours @painteral613 @writerswarmth 

#painting #blackandwhite #catart #spooky #halloween #storypainting #bookstagram #instagood #beauty#beautiful#merrickville #haunted #afterlife #supernatural #cemetery #graveyard #Annabelle&m #love #moon#moonlight#florenceblume #trees #ghostadventures #spookyseason #blackcat #picoftheday #instadaily #art #poem#donotstandatmygraveandweep 

REMEMBER ME ♥️

REMEMBER ME ♥️

In Flanders Fields

BY JOHN MCCRAE

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

    That mark our place; and in the sky

    The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

    Loved and were loved, and now we lie,

        In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

    The torch; be yours to hold it high.

    If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

        In Flanders fields.

DORMIR SOUS UN CYPRES

"Dormir sous un cyprès, or “to sleep under a cypress” means to be dead."


OIL ON WOOD WIP

I left it for dead.

When I was inspired to paint The Quiet Garden, it was after I had come upon a beautiful garden behind The Saint John the Baptist Anglican Church in Richmond, Ontario, next to the church graveyard. But, I failed in capturing the serene landscape of The Quiet Garden and tossed the painting into the woodpile.
Sometimes, what I have in mind does not always turn out the way I conceive it in my mind. Now, I have arrived where the road leads to though not so sure how to go on. I will need to give it some thought before I make my next brush stroke.

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN


Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;


Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,


And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.


I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.


~Robert Frost

SEPTEMBER WOODS

SEPTEMBER WOODS


A glory of gold
And russet and grey,
The tree-tops old
Glow in the day;
And, one by one,
The dry leaves fall,
And the Autumn sun
Smiles on them all.


Where all is still
The rabbits play,
And pheasants fill
Each woodland way;
And, one by one,
The dry leaves fall,
While the Autumn sun

Smiles on them all

~ Sunlight and Shade

 

Bat's a Mystery Cat: he's called the Hidden Paw~ Happy Caturday!

After retiring to bed late last night, my cell phone kept going off with text messages. My husband, annoyed by the numerous tinkling spells, asked me to hand him my phone and turned it off. Still drowned in sleep, it didn't occur to me until a few minutes later that it probably was my daughter, Emma texting me photos of Bat she had just taken earlier in the evening. I looked at the screen, sure enough, Bat was looking back at me.

So I got up and joined Emma in the living room, had some good laughs at all of the funny poses, picked a few we liked and went back to bed.

Of course, what came to mind looking at Bat hiding inside the old flowerpot was T.S. Eliot's story of

'Macavity - The Mystery Cat.'

Used the filter here and made it a bit spookier

Original

PHOTO BY EMMA ( M )

"For he's the master criminal who can defy the law.

Bat, Bat, there's no one like Bat, There never was a Cat of such deceitfulness and suavity. He always has an alibi, and one or two to spare: And whatever time the deed took place - BAT WASN'T THERE!"

Only this time we caught you, Bat!

The Little Sunflower's Wish 🌱🌻🧡🌻🌱🧡🌻🧡🌱

The Little Sunflower's Wish  🌱🌻🧡🌻🌱🧡🌻🧡🌱

       Magic in a Tangled Garden

I glanced up to look at the sunny heads looking down from the towering stalks of the giant sunflowers. A little sunflower was looking up too. This tangled garden of ours keeps creating magic.

Nature tells us many things, and this little guy, I believe, is telling us where there is love life grows.

Ah! Sun-Flower

By William Blake

Ah, Sun-flower! weary of time,

Who countest the steps of the Sun:

Seeking after that sweet golden clime

Where the traveler's journey is done.


Where the Youth pined away with desire,

And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow:

Arise from their graves and aspire,

Where my Sunflower wishes to go.

THE DREAM AND THE VISITOR

I couldn't sleep but I remembered my dream... Salem returned.

‘The Visitor’, by Ian Serraillier

A crumbling churchyard, the sea, and the moon; The waves had gouged out grave and bone;

A man was walking, late and alone...

He saw a skeleton on the ground; A ring on a bony finger he found.

He ran home to his wife and gave her the ring. “Oh, where did you get it?” He said not a thing.

“It’s the loveliest ring in the world,” she said,

As it glowed on her finger. They slipped off to bed.

At midnight they woke. In the dark outside, “Give me my ring!” a chill voice cried.

“What was that, William? What did it say?” “Don’t’ worry, my dear. It’ll soon go away.”

“I’m coming!” A skeleton opened the door. “Give me my ring!” It was crossing the floor.

“What was that, William? What did it say?” “Don’t’ worry, my dear. It’ll soon go away.”

“I’m reaching you now! I’m climbing the bed.” The wife pulled the sheet right over her head.

It was torn from her grasp and tossed in the air: “I’ll drag you out of bed by the hair!”

“What was that, William? What did it say?”

“Throw the ring through the window! THROW IT AWAY!”

She threw it. The skeleton leapt from the sill, Scooped up the ring and clattered downhill, Fainter... and fainter... Then all was still.



Salem was one of our rescues, a very special cat who had a sixth sense I'm sure.




THE VISITOR BY IAN SERRAILLIER

Sunday Morning Moon Through the Trees~ Melon ~Like! 🌚

Over the top of the mountains the moon

Rose unexpectedly In the sky, it drifted, A bird, a fairy! Blown out, round and sweet Melon~ Like! ~ Patrizia Gattaceca

LILIES OF THE VALLEY

When at the end of spring I pick for the last time
My favourite flowers— a yearning fills my breast,
And to the future I urgently appeal:
Let me but once again look upon the lilies of the valley.
Now they have faded. Like an arrow the summer has flown by,
The days have grown shorter. The feathered choir is still,
The sun more charily grants us its warmth and light,
And already the wood has laid its leafy carpet.
Then when harsh winter comes
And the forests don their snowy cover,
Despondently I roam and wait with new yearning
For the skies to shine with the sun of spring.
I find no pleasure in books, or conversation,
Or swift-rushing sledges, or the ball's noisy glitter,
Or Patti, or the theatre, or delicate cuisine,
Or the quiet crackling of smouldering logs on the fire
I wait for spring. And now the enchantress appears,
The wood has cast off its shroud
And prepares for us shade,
And the rivers start to flow, and the grove is filled with sound,
And at last the long-looked-for day is here!
Quick to the woods!—I race along the familiar path.
Can my dreams have come true, my longings be fulfilled?—
There he is! Bending to the earth, with trembling hand
I pluck the wondrous gift of the enchantress Spring.
O lily of the valley, why do you so please the eye?
Other flowers there are more sumptuous and grand,
With brighter colours and livelier patterns,
Yet they have not your mysterious fascination.
Where lies the secret of your charms? What do you prophesy to the soul?
With what do you attract me, with what gladden my heart?
Is it that you revive the ghost of former pleasures,
Or is it future bliss that you promise us?
I know not. But your balmy fragrance,
Like flowing wine, warms and intoxicates me,
Like music, it takes my breath away,
And like a flame of love, it suffuses my burning cheeks.
And I am happy while you bloom, modest lily of the valley,
The tedium of winter days has passed without a trace,
And oppressive thoughts are gone, and in my heart in languid comfort
Welcomes, with you, forgetfulness of trouble and woe.
Yet now you fade. Again in monotonous succession
The days will begin to flow slowly, and stronger than before
Will I be tormented by importunate yearning,
By the agonizing dream of the happiness of days in May.

And then someday spring again will call
And raise the living world out of its fetters.
But the hour will strike. I shall be no more among the living,
I shall meet, like everyone, my fated turn.
And then what?—Where, at the winged hour of death,
Will my soul, heeding its command, soundlessly soar?
No answer! Be silent, my restless mind,
You cannot guess what eternity holds for us.
But like all of nature, drawn by our thirst to live,
We call to you and wait, beautiful Spring!
The joys of earth are so near to us, so familiar—
The yawning maw of the grave so dark! ~ PYOTR LLYICH TCHAIKOVSKY

Spring is late this year but on a good note, it gave me a chance to pick my favorite flower...LILIES OF THE VALLEY and I was ☘️ to find this painting "Lady of Shallott" by Waterhouse.

Grace and Karson

                                 Grace

July 1st, 2005 ~ Feb 27th, 2019

              

Grace and Karson photographed by M

“And it is exceedingly short, his galloping life. Dogs die so soon. I have my stories of that grief, no doubt many of you do also. It is almost a failure of will, a failure of love, to let them grow old—or so it feels. We would do anything to keep them with us, and to keep them young. The one gift we cannot give. •”


Mary Oliver, Dog Songs

 

Above photos by M

The Spider and The Cat

A Little Caturday Fun playing with the famous poem "The Spider and The Fly" by Mary Howitt 1829


The Spider and The Cat

“Good morning, my darling love”. said the Spider to the Cat;
Don't be frightened by my skinny, spidery legs and all of that.
These hairy limbs surely will give you a tiny tickle;
When I scurry across your back, you'll be in such a pickle.
Go away, go away! said the pussycat; your not my kinda of chap:
I'm unto all your flattery and your spooky, kooky, trap.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Sweetie ♥️

Happy Valentine’s Day, Sweetie ♥️


♥️ I will make you brooches and toys for your delight
Of birdsong at morning and starshine at night
I will make a palace fit for you and me
Of green days in forests and blue days at sea


Robert Louis Stevenson

~ A Christmas Rose ~

After taking this picture of course I had to alter it again. While I was cleaning my studio I cam across tiny marquisette butterfly earrings belonging to my daughter and added them to the rose. I'll post the new picture later.

First saw this rose on "Miz Smoochie Lips" a few years back, then saw Lynn 's from "Sea Angels" all done in paper,and once again from "Calamity Kim" made with paper,fabric and tulle and of course "Mommy Makes Roses" as seen on Martha Stewart. I made a few roses to adorn my Christmas gifts.

This is an altered rose made out of an old paper rose,then I added German glass glitter, old lace, a poem on a vintage music sheet. They are beautiful and so romantic placed on the Christmas tree or adorning wreaths,garlands,as a brooch,on gifts like I have done or just pinning it to something you like and enjoying it year round.

At the moment I am cleaning house since I was ill for the past week with the flew and feeling quite blue with the passing of our dear Elly. Very hard at times to get into the spirit of things when some things seem so much more important to one's life. Slowly,very slowly we are coming back to feeling the cheerful Spirit of Christmas.

Bella ...Di Notte..." Twilight "

Edward may have whispered this poem to Bella as he watched her sleep....

My daughter Emma who just turned sixteen is the artist responsible for the digital design that accompanies my "Twilight" inspired poem. She incorporated a picture of Bella and Edward embracing behind a divide of rain enhanced by the Four o’ clock flower {Bella Di Notte} of Midsummer bloom, with their sweet fragrance, and timely awakening at Twilight. I really like what she did and fits well with my poem.

Copyright ©2008 Annabelle {Anna Laura Belanger}

I thought it might just be the right time to repost an older post I wrote in admiration for "Twilight" the vampire love story of Edward and Bella.
This is the week .....are you going?

I confess, I will never grow old in mind, for it holds dear all of the cherished memories I have always loved and enjoyed in my life. Vampire stories have been always a big part of me; actually I have always been obsessed by them, as a result they are reflected in my art. I love dark subdued colors. I adore the rain and lushness of the grass and trees and how fragrant and striking flowers can be, especially behind a lense. One of my favorite colors is black; I could never throw it away. It holds a secret place in my heart.

From the very beginning, Bella Legosi and Vincent Price were favorites, the Hammer films starring Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. All of the props, gorgeous costumes and enchanting mysterious castles and manors in settings that I could never have possibly imagined just took me in and I was captivated for the duration of the film, once ended, my mind filled with ideas. And again, in most cases they would take place in England.

So, why I have entered into this sphere is because of “Twilight”, the Stephenie Meyer’s novels so many are gibbering about and with good reason, but I wouldn’t go into it,for there is a wealth of information from so many sources out there built by adoring fans.I,myself have found it engaging to the point that it has given me inspiration to write as well as creating my art. I can’t believe all of the tremendous creativity that is out there particularly from a very young group who have,like me been inspired by Stephenie Meyer’s novel. The writing, art, unveiling of directorial talent and acting from around the world is amazing. Meyer has, from what I have seen; consummated a gathering of promising talent and that is a very good thing to come out from a book.

My daughter, who is fifteen, is one of the promising talents I speak of and she is the artist responsible for the background design of my poem. She incorporated a picture of Bella and Edward embracing behind a divide of rain enhanced by the Four o’ clock flower {Bella Di Notte} of Midsummer bloom, with their sweet fragrance, and timely awakening at Twilight. I really like what she did and fits well with my poem.

I have existing proof of this creative occurrence inspired by “Twilght” that is taking place, right here in front of me.
At the moment, Em is absorbed in another thought…I’ll just have to wait and see!

~ Witches Brew ~

Look close....
Into the Dark Deep Night,
Into the Black Velvet Sky,
Witches and Cats
and Vampire Bats.....
annabelle


Happy Halloween!!!

Nine Little Spooky Goblins

Nine Little Spooky Goblins

Nudge Ogle Wink,
Nudge, Nudge, Wink Wink
Nine little spooky goblins stared behind the bubble glass
so carefully they watched my every step upon the grass
Tis alarming when a stranger comes thru here
For no one ever dare comes near
Their home, once sat upon a witches head so steep
But now has found a secret box to keep…

~ Annabelle


A little fun three in one piece I did for the Halloween season....On Etsy
A Secret Box ~ A Witche's Hat ~ Nine Little Spooky Goblin's Home The Metal cone has nine glass windows and I thought of turning the old hat into a towering home for nine little spooks.They are very proud of their home and are always vigilant if any strangers come near.This was loads of fun when I thought up the idea and transformed the cone into a ghost house instead of the usual cone tussie mussie.