Category Archives: Painting

Beautiful Valentine’s Day 2025…

14 Friday Feb 2025

Posted by in Art, Birds, Gouache, Love, Painting, Poetry, Relationships, Valentine's Day

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© Joan Currie – My Valentine’s Day owl card series, “Whoooo loves you? I do!” Gouache.


A Love Worth Waiting For... by Joan Currie

I once believed in fairy tales, in love so vast, so bright,
A love that soared on golden wings and lit the darkest night.
I dreamed of hands that knew my own, of hearts that beat the same,
Of whispered vows in starlit hush, of love that burned like flame.

Yet time wove shadows in my path, and love became a ghost,
A wistful wish, a fleeting dream, a ship without a coast.
I wandered through the quiet years, through echoes soft and thin,
Not knowing love was biding time, still waiting to begin.

And then—you came, like summer rain, like dawn upon the sea,
A love so deep, so fierce, so true, it woke the soul in me.
No fleeting spark, no passing storm, no whisper in the air,
But something strong as ancient oaks, as certain as a prayer.

The love of ballads, sonnets bright, the love that poets weave,
The love of kings and wayard knights, of hearts that won’t deceive.
A love where laughter, wild and free, is laced with tender sighs,
Where every glance is poetry, where longing never dies.

So here we stand, with hands entwined, where fate and dreams align,
A love reborn, a tale retold—forever yours and mine.
No more a wish, no more a ghost, no more a fleeting glance,
But love, at last, as it should be—our fated, timeless dance.

I have found love again! I am so grateful for each and every glorious moment we spend together!

© Joan Currie -Another owl for my Valentine’s Day cards series of owls for my family.

Happy Valentines’s Day to all of you! ❤️

Beautiful Soft Landing…

24 Tuesday Dec 2024

Posted by in beautiful, Birds, Christmas, Daily Life, Painting, Poetry, Reflections, watercolor

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© Joan Currie – My turtle dove watercolor painting inspired by The Twelve Days of Christmas.


A Prayer for a Soft Landing

This year I soared through skies untamed,
Where heights were thrilling, dreams unchained.
The sunlit peaks, so bold, so near,
But shadows lingered – storms appeared.

The winds of change, they howled and roared,
And turbulence I so abhorred
Shook the wings I thought were strong,
Yet somehow, still, I flew along.

The high points glimmer, bright, profound,
Moments where my heart unbound.
I treasure these, their golden hue,
And honor trials I stumbled through.

For every bruise, a lesson learned,
Through fiery paths, resilience earned.
Not unscathed, but still I stand,
A voyager, with faith in hand.

Now as this year’s horizon fades,
I pray for softer serenades.
A gentle landing, calm and clear,
To close this wild, unsteady year.

And may the winds of what’s to come,
Bring brighter skies, a kinder sun.
For though I trembled, I endured –
A stronger soul, a heart assured.

Wishing you all the very best for the holidays and a wonderful 2025! ❤️

Beautiful Wild Turkey…

22 Friday Nov 2024

Posted by in beautiful, Birds, Nature, Painting, Poetry, watercolor

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© Joan Currie – My watercolor painting of a wild turkey.


The Wild Turkey’s Vigil by Joan Currie

In the dappled light of the forest’s edge,
He struts, wary, along the bramble’s ledge.
His ruby throat, a beacon of flame,
Bobs and flickers, untamed, untamed.

Eyes wide with a primal, ancient fear,
Each rustle of leaves, each sound draws near.
A breeze, a shadow – he freezes, tense,
A sentinel poised by a fragile fence.

Down the road, domestic birds parade,
Fat and oblivious, in sun-spotted shade.
Their fates are sealed, their end well-known,
But his is a dance in the wild alone.

Will he endure the frost-kissed nights,
And coyotes’ teeth that gleam in moonlight?
Or will his feathers scatter, a fleeting trace,
Of a noble life in a ruthless place?

No table awaits his wary kind,
No cranberry sauce, no sage entwined.
Yet the woods hold stories cruel and raw,
Where survival bends to nature’s law.

I spied this wild turkey standing alone on my walk today. I have always seen him with his mate and worry that the coyotes may have taken her from him. I hope he can find a good hiding spot in the woods tonight!

Happy Thanksgiving Season! ❤️

Beautiful Pumpkin…

25 Friday Oct 2024

Posted by in Art, beautiful, Hallowe'en, Painting, Poetry, Pumpkin, Reflections

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© Joan Currie – My pumpkin painting in acrylic on molding paste with bronze and gold paint v.3

Hallowe’en Harvest by Joan Currie

On Hallowe’en, the earth bears gifts of gold,
Pumpkins swell, the squash begins to fold.

The harvest yields its bounty rich and bright,
And I give thanks beneath the autumn light.

But as I walk, the shadows start to creep,
And whisper secrets that the dark can keep.

For Samhain stirs, the Celtic year’s rebirth,
Where ghosts and goblins rise from out the earth.

My mind, so tethered to the harvest’s might,
Now feels the phantoms in the night.

The rational speaks of grain and seed,
But still, the restless spirits sow their greed.

A headless rider gallops through the gloom,
While witches weave their spells beneath the moon.

I walk between these worlds, both rich and strange –
The earth’s abundance, and the night’s wild change.

The harvest calls, yet something darker grows,
As from the underworld, the cold wind blows.

At this time of year, I feel an eerie presence swirling around me in the darkness on my walk home. As I did in my youth, I can’t help but pick up the pace and finally break into a run!

Happy Hallowe’en! 🧡

Beautiful Falcon…

05 Thursday Sep 2024

Posted by in Birds, Nature, Painting, Poetry, watercolor

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© Joan Currie – My watercolor painting of a falcon.


The Falcon’s Spiral by Joan Currie

Upon the highway’s winding course I sped,
When, far above, a falcon soared and spun,
In widening gyres, a dancer in the sun,
The sky its stage, the world beneath it fled,
Each sweep, each turn, with majesty it led,
The climbing spiral, silent, graceful run,
Riding the breeze till earth and sky were one,
And all my thoughts were to its freedom wed.

Not mine, the wings that cleave the golden air,
Yet in my breast, a strange desire grew-
To feel the lift, the warm caress, the rare
Delight of flight that to the heavens drew.
Not to escape, but for the joy to share
A moment’s lightness in the sunlit blue.

Perhaps the joys of my first roller coaster rides and waterskiing around the lake come the closest to the feeling of flight that I craved that day.

Beautiful Farewell to Summer and a Quail…

23 Friday Aug 2024

Posted by in beautiful, Birds, Nature, Painting, Poetry, watercolor

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© Joan Currie – My watercolor painting of a California Quail

A Farewell to Summer by Joan Currie

I sense the shift, the whispered chill,
The tender breath of autumn’s will.
Where once the summer’s golden beam,
Danced lightly in a wistful dream.
Now lingers faint upon the air,
A fading warmth, too brief, too rare.

The roses, once in bloom so fair,
Now bow their heads in quiet prayer.
Their petals fall like summer’s tears,
While winds begin to wake my fears.
The squirrel gnaws on apples bright,
Then leaves them, half-consumed, in flight.

The clothes, once crisp beneath the sun,
Hang limp, their drying days near done.
No longer do they flutter light,
But cling, as if a ghost at night.
I stand in stillness, heart grown sore,
For summer passed, and nothing more.

I did not seize the season’s cheer,
Nor dance beneath the skies so clear.
Now autumn comes, with somber grace,
To steal the warmth I can’t replace.
And yet, I brace for colder days,
Winter’s chill in a frost-bound haze.

I spotted a California quail while walking in the woods today – a last offering, perhaps, of the summer season.

Beautiful Finding Happiness in a Flower…

07 Wednesday Aug 2024

Posted by in Art, beautiful, Flowers, Nature, Painting, Poetry, Reflections, watercolor

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© Joan Currie – My watercolor of a woman looking at a flower.

The Bloom of Happiness by Joan Currie

In a small and quiet village, lived a woman kind and true,
She helped her friends and family, no matter what they’d do.
Her heart was filled with charity, her hands with gentle grace,
She asked for nothing in return, just a smile upon each face.

But fate, with cruel fingers, wove a twist within her life,
She fell into a sickness, her body racked with strife.
She tried to mend her weary self, with strength she couldn’t find,
And so she called for those she’d helped, with hope they’d be as kind.

Yet each one had their burdens, and other tasks to tend,
They turned away, their busy lives, no time to help a friend.
Alone she faced her suffering, with tears and silent pleas,
Her heart ached more than body, as she fell upon her knees.

One morning in her garden, beneath the sun’s embrace,
She saw a sight that took her breath, and brought light to her face.
A flower, bright and beautiful, bloomed from a plant so plain,
A gift from gentle nature, to soothe her deepest pain.

In petals soft and fragrant, she felt a tender care,
A message from the earth and sky, that someone still was there.
Nature’s touch had reached her, when human hearts had failed,
And in that bloom, she found the strength, her spirit once more sailed!

I hold the gifts from nature so very close to my heart, especially in times of need. Every so often, I feel they are my late mother’s way of caring for me – still.

Beautiful Jaguar…

30 Thursday May 2024

Posted by in Animals, Art, beautiful, Mammals, Needlepoint, Painting, Poetry, watercolor, Wild animals

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© Joan Currie – My watercolor painting of a jaguar.

A Jaguar Sighting by Joan Currie

There, in the twilight’s gentle hold,
A vision rare, a sight untold,
A jaguar sprang from leafy shade,
Its presence fierce, my steps delayed.

With eyes of blue, like summer skies,
It met my gaze with wild surprise,
A flash of light in twilight’s gloom,
A piercing fire, a sapphire bloom.

Upon its coat, the rosettes danced,
With markings clear, my heart entranced,
Not leopard’s spots, but nature’s art,
The jaguar’s strength and mystic heart.

It moved with grace, a specter bright,
Through verdant halls of fading light,
In silent awe, I stood alone,
To witness what the wild had shown.

When I was very young, my knowledge of animals: mammals, birds, fish, reptiles, and amphibians, was limited to identifying them in picture books – mostly associating the name of the creature with the first letter of its name, e.g. “J for Jaguar.” Although I studied them in biology class and watched a number of National Geographic and Nature documentaries over the years, my keen interest in animals came to me only recently. I am completely besotted with them now!

© Joan Currie – My J for Jaguar needlepoint pillow.

Beautiful Owls…

23 Thursday May 2024

Posted by in Art, Birds, Needlepoint, Painting, Poetry, Reflections, watercolor

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© Joan Currie – Detail of my watercolor painting of an owlet.

What the Owl Sees by Elizabeth Sears Bates

His velvet wing sweeps through the night :
With magic of his wondrous sight
He oversees his vast domain,
And king supreme of night doth reign.

© Joan Currie – My owl in flight watercolor after Jackie Morris

I heard the soft and soothing hooting of an owl several nights ago. Sadly, the owl decided not to stay but I took his presence as a sign of good luck!

© Joan Currie – Detail of my owl needlepoint in progress.

Beautiful Falcon…

17 Friday May 2024

Posted by in Art, beautiful, Birds, Needlepoint, Painting, Poetry

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© Joan Currie – My “F for Falcon” needlepoint – just finished and ready to be sewn into a nursery pillow.

The Windhover by Gerard Manley Hopkins

I caught this morning morning’s minion, king-
dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird,—the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!

Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.

I have become fascinated with birds of prey in the last few months – the variations of hooked beaks and talons are particularly interesting. I will share my paintings once the raptor series is complete.