Wise Pole

I moved up to Queensland the year I turned 40 and thought it was about time I started to look at some type of outlet away from work pressures. That’s when I decided to take up painting again. My first painting was a very simple acrylic piece I called “Wise pole”. I did it a day or two after the family went fishing at a local jetty. I was sitting there at the jetty with this single pole right in front of me. Etched into my memory were the deep weathered cracks in the pole, like wrinkles on an old man’s face. It was like the pole was a wise old elder with multitudes of engaging stories to tell about what he had witnessed over the history of the place. Tide marks stained the wise pole at the water line where a mass of barnacles congregated as if there to listen to the stories of the wise one. Then as you cast your eye beyond the pole the sun rays start dancing along the water, shimmering like diamonds, embellishing the stories with movement and providing warmth and spectacle to the occasion.