Blog

Dimension: 6"X12" Canvas Medium: Water-Based Windsor & Newton Acrylics When Lovely Women Blossom to their Day The moment stop The rest just gaze With Awe and Not An Utter Word to Say.

Dimension: 11”X14” stretch bar canvas Medium: Windsor & Newton Oils

Liberty New Castle, July 4, 1878 or a hundred years the pulse of time Has throbbed for Liberty; For a hundred years the grand old clime Columbia has been free; For a hundred years our country’s love, The Stars and Stripes, has waved above. Away far out on the gulf of years- Misty and faint and white Through the fogs of wrong-a sail appears, And the Mayflower heaves in sight, And drifts again, with its little flock Of a hundred souls, on Plymouth Rock. Do you see them there-as long, long since- Through the lens of History; Do you see them there as their chieftain prints In the snow his bended knee, And lifts his voice through the wintry blast In thanks for a peaceful home at last? Though the skies are dark and the coast is bleak, And the storm is wild and fierce, Its frozen flake on the upturned cheek Of the Pilgrim melts in tears, And the dawn that springs from the darkness there Is the morning light of an answered prayer. The morning light of the day of Peace That gladdens the aching eyes, And gives to the soul that sweet release That the present verifies,— Nor a snow so deep, nor a wind so chill To quench the flame of a freeman’s will! II Days of toil when the bleeding hand Of the pioneer grew numb, When the untilled tracts of the barren land Where the weary ones had come Could offer nought from a fruitful soil To stay the strength of the stranger’s toil. Days of pain, when the heart beat low, And the empty hours went by Pitiless, with the wail of woe And the moan of Hunger’s cry— When the trembling hands upraised in prayer Had only the strength to hold them there. Days when the voice of hope had fled- Days when the eyes grown weak Were folded to, and the tears they shed Were frost on a frozen cheek- When the storm bent down from the skies and gave A shroud of snow for the Pilgrim’s grave. Days at last when the smiling sun Glanced down from a summer sky, And a music rang where the rivers run, And the waves went laughing by; And the rose peeped over the mossy bank While the wild deer stood in the stream and drank. And the birds sang out so loud and good, In a symphony so clear And pure and sweet that the woodman stood With his ax upraised to hear, And to shape the words of the tongue unknown Into a language all his own—

Pomegranates, the National Fruit of Armenia. No matter what the size of the pomegranate fruit, there are always 365 seeds. One seed for everday of the year.

As the viewer, you would have to figure out, are there 365 strokes of paint, 365 pomegranate seeds, 365 lines? Once again, a lovely poem added to this artwork.

The Pomegranate , by Eavan Boland

The only legend I have ever loved is
the story of a daughter lost in hell.
And found and rescued there.
Love and blackmail are the gist of it.
Ceres and Persephone the names.
And the best thing about the legend is
I can enter it anywhere.And have.
As a child in exile in
a city of fogs and strange consonants,
I read it first and at first I was
an exiled child in the crackling dusk of
the underworld, the stars blighted.Later
I walked out in a summer twilight
searching for my daughter at bed-time.
When she came running I was ready
to make any bargain to keep her.
I carried her back past whitebeams
and wasps and honey-scented buddleias.
But I was Ceres then and I knew
winter was in store for every leaf
on every tree on that road.
Was inescapable for each one we passed.
And for me.
It is winter
and the stars are hidden.
I climb the stairs and stand where I can see
my child asleep beside her teen magazines,
her can of Coke, her plate of uncut fruit.
The pomegranate!How did I forget it?
She could have come home and been safe
and ended the story and all
our heart-broken searching but she reached
out a hand and plucked a pomegranate.
She put out her hand and pulled down
the French sound for apple and
the noise of stone and the proof
that even in the place of death,
at the heart of legend, in the midst
of rocks full of unshed tears
ready to be diamonds by the time
the story was told, a child can be
hungry.I could warn her.There is still a chance.
The rain is cold.The road is flint-coloured.
The suburb has cars and cable television.
The veiled stars are above ground.
It is another world.But what else
can a mother give her daughter but such
beautiful rifts in time?
If I defer the grief I will diminish the gift.
The legend will be hers as well as mine.
She will enter it.As I have.
She will wake up.She will hold
the papery flushed skin in her hand.
And to her lips.I will say nothing.

Dimension: 6"X12" Canvas

Medium: Water-Based Windsor & Newton Acrylics

When Lovely Women Blossom to their Day
The moment stop
The rest just gaze
With Awe and Not
An Utter Word to Say.

Dimension: 14"X18" Canvas Board Medium: Windsor & Newton water-based Acrylics

For The Future by Wendell Berry

Planting trees early in spring, we make a place for birds to sing in time to come. How do we know? They are singing here now. There is no other guarantee that singing will ever be.

Dimension: 16"X20" Windsor & Newton Cotton Stretch Bar Canvas Medium: Windsor & Newton Water-Based Acrylics

Wild Heart By Lacy Priest

Her pounding hooves barely touched the ground, If she escapes, she'll never be found. The men's ropes are twirling, now flying throuth the air, Waiting to tighten 'round the neck of the mare. She sees it and cuts to the right, While the riders draw empty ropes back up tight. The men's horses are tiring, but she's fresh as a breeze. "She's drawing away," whispers the wind in the trees. Through the canyon, up the hill, "The men are beaten; she's safe"; the cardinals thrill! She'll never know bridle, blanket, nor saddle, And she won't ever help cowboys round up the cattle. 'Cause she's a wild one by name and by mark, The cowboys all round here call her The Wild Heart. Now that's the tale of the sorrel mare that never got roped, Because she evaded all the cowboys with her powerful 'lope.

Cape Cod, often referred to as simply the Cape, and called Cape of Keel by early Norse explorers. Friends and myself always go to the Cape, to visit the towns, enjoy the sites, and view local merchant trading and whale cultures. Best seafood in the Northeast.

Please view Helen's works on www.helenasartgallery.com or for quality prints, framed works, stretched canvas or notecards on www.fineartamerica.com

Embracing and Passionistic. This painting was inspired by me by the sculptorist, Auguste Rodin, his version of "The Kiss"

So rich as the original sculpture, a painting of love yet lost.

Please view Helen's works on www.helenasartgallery.com or for quality prints, framed works, stretched canvas or notecards on www.fineartamerica.com

I call it..."Unforgettable," because when I saw the live sculptor in Paris, France...I still have not forgotten.



Unforgettable, that's what you are
Unforgettablethough near or far
Like a song of love that clings to me
How the thought of you does things to me
Never before has someone been more

Unforgettable in every way
And forever more, that's how you'll stay
That's why, darling, it's incredible
That someone so unforgettable
Thinks that I am unforgettable too



Unforgettable in every way
And forever more, that's how you'll stay
That's why, darling, it's incredible
That someone so unforgettable
Thinks that I am unforgettable too

On our journey through life, we encounter many things that inspire us. This tree inspired me, and took my breathe away. I am just enjoying the journey with the small inspirations that come my path.

The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. ... Albert Einstein

I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the earth's sweet flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all day, And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in Summer wear A nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain. Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree. -- Joyce Kilmer

All roses have meaning red=love, a special wish will be granted.
"Sterling Silver" has soft lavender flowers and fragrant scent. The "Sterling Silver" is recommended as a greenhouse rose. It has a lack of cold hardiness, lack of vigor, stinginess with bloom production, and susceptibility to the usual diseases that make this rose a weak candidate for the garden.

Other meanings of roses:
Rose (Bridal) Happy Love
Rose (Dark Crimson) Mourning
Rose (Hibiscus) Delicate Beauty
Rose (Leaf) You May Hope
Rose (Pink) Perfect Happiness, Please Believe Me
Rose (Red) Love, I Love You Rose (Tea) I'll Remember Always
Rose (Thornless) Love At First Sight
Rose (White and Red Mixed) Unity, Flower Emblem of England
Rose (White) Innocence and Purity, I Am Worthy of You, You're Heavenly, Secrecy and Silence
Rose (White Dried) Death Is Preferable To Loss of Virtue
Rose (Yellow) Decrease of Love, Jealousy, Try To Care Rosebud Beauty and Youth, a Heart Innocent of Love
Rosebud (Moss) Confessions of Love
Rosebud (Red) Pure and Lovely
Rosebud (White) Girlhood Rosemary Remembrance
Roses (Bouquet of Mature Blooms) Gratitude
Roses (Single Full Bloom) I Love You, I Still Love You

Art Piece done in oil on 300 pound watercolour Strathmore paper. Size: 22"X30"

Medium: Windsor & Newton Oils & Oils Pastels

Swirls and twirls of magic on Hannah's magical wish granting tree.
There was once a weary traveler who sat down to rest in the shade of a tree. He did not know that the tree he rested upon was a magic tree. It is called " The Wish-Granting Tree." Seated on the hard ground, he thought how pleasant it would be if he can sleep in a soft bed. Instantly, a bed appeared before him. Astonished, the man immediately climbed onto the bed. Then, he thought that it would be nice if there would be a beautiful young girl beside him who would massage his sore legs. At that moment, a young girl appeared before him and began massaging him. "I'm so hungry," the man said to himself. "Having something to eat now would be a great pleasure." Instantly, a table appeared with delicious foods. The man rejoiced and began eating and drinking to his heart's content. His head spun a little and his eyelids grew heavy as the wine took effect. He stretched himself and was thinking about the wonderful events that took place on that extraordinary day. "I'll sleep for an hour or two," he thought. "The worst that could happen would be if a tiger wandered by while I'm asleep." Instantly a tiger appeared and devoured the poor man.

You have a magic tree inside you, waiting to grant your wishes. But be careful! The same tree can also make your negative thoughts and fears come true.

At the very least it will be influenced by your negative thoughts, so that the good things you wish for do not happen. That's what worrying can do. I wish with all my heart that you live a life free of worry, negative thoughts and fear, in the shade and comfort of your personal Wish-Granting Tree

- Author Unknown

Dimension: 16"X20" Gesso treated stretch bar canvas

Medium: Acrylics


Neuschwanstein Castle (German: Schloss Neuschwanstein, lit. New Swan Stone palace, is a 19th-century Bavarian palace on a rugged hill near Hohenschwangau and Füssen in southwest Bavaria, Germany. The palace was commissioned by Ludwig II of Bavaria as a retreat and as an homage to Richard Wagner, the King's inspiring muse. Although public photography of the interior is not permitted,[1] it is the most photographed building in Germany and is one of the country's most popular tourist destinations.[2] Ludwig himself named it Neue Hohenschwangau; the name Neuschwanstein was coined after his death.

The reclusive Ludwig did not allow visitors to his castles, which he intended as personal refuges, but after his death in 1886 the castle was opened to the public (in part due to the need to pay off the debts Ludwig incurred financing its construction).[citation needed] Since that time over 50 million people have visited the Neuschwanstein Castle.[3] About 1.3 million people visit annually, with up to 6,000 per day in the summer.[4] The palace has appeared in several movies, and was the inspiration for Sleeping Beauty Castle (1955) at both Disneyland Park and Hong Kong Disneyland.

In 1923 Crown Prince Rupprecht gave the palace to the state of Bavaria, unlike nearby Hohenschwangau Castle which was transferred to the private Wittelsbach Trust (Wittelsbacher Ausgleichfonds), which is administered on behalf of the head of the house of Wittelsbach, currently Franz, Duke of Bavaria. The Free State of Bavaria has spent more than €14.5 million on Neuschwanstein's maintenance, renovation and visitor services since 1990


Poem:
Neuschwanstein
Across the ocean and above the lands
Sits a legacy for all curious eyes.
An ivory castle on a lonely peak
Where even the clouds bow down
Beneath its soaring majestic spires.
It was the dream of one king not long ago
That flustered the brow of every fair maiden.
To build for beauty, hold art above war.
Dismissing tradition and logic for lies
And following a single dream to lands end.
He sat on the banks of the river Rhine
Imagining one original palace after the next.
Maybe he shopped in the Marienplatz
For velvet loveseats and porcelain swans
To adorn the seed of his hearts content.
But now the king has been gone for years.
And Bavaria has never quite been the same
Since the death of Kind Ludwig the mad.
His castles stand proud and greet the wanderers
And journeyman, and dreamers and historians alike.
Though all are rare in craft and dripping in style
One of his lonely dreams stands above the rest.
Reaching beyond the Alpine rolling skies
Coloring heaven with a touch of human royalty.
A place any Sleeping Beauty would pray to wake.
It is here, I fell in love again, twice in the time of a year.
First with the earth, its inhabitants achievements
And the very nature that hides them in its breast.
The lakes that capture the suns final rays,
The heaving mountains with their fancy caps of snow,
The whispering cow bells carried by the gentle winds
And the serenity of the painted villages sleeping below.
The second time was with a young mate
Who accompanied me to my secret place.
To cavort once the daily bustles had calmed.
He fell for the battlements I had loved before
Understood the treasures I longed to share.
He carried me up the mountain like a princess
To her new palace on the night they were wed.
He kissed me to the whimpering of waterfalls,
Then watched on as the sun sank to bed.
Blessed be whoever may fall upon this place
Tucked into the heart of the Bavarian Alps
For this is the spot where I proudly left my heart,
And left Neuschwanstein for widened eyes to behold.


~Robyn Schwartz~ (10/17/2001)

Dimension: 18"X20" gesso prime treated Canvas

Medium: Acrylics


One of Helena's favorite paintings of mother and her first born child. A story within this painting.

As each woman is assimlated to this ideal, her individual features are transformed and on some occasions, merged with her rivals. Similarly the characteristic costume of one woman may also be found in a portrait of another.

Angel In Disguise
© Jennifer Rasmussen


The other day I met an angel
And when I looked into her eyes
I saw a love to pierce the darkness
I saw that hate she truly despised

I saw the comfort and compassion
When I was broken or would cry
She'd embrace me into her arms
And sing to me a lullaby

The words so inspirational
I'd close my eyes and dream
The melody so graceful
I was hearing Heaven sing

She taught me many lessons
About how to live my life
Pleasingly towards Jesus
Loving daughter, mother, wife

She taught me ways of wisdom
To always speak the truth
She taught me the books of the bible
Joshua, Judges, Ruth

Together we play for hours
Trains, house, and dolls
But soon the sky darkens
The sun begins to fall

I look in dismay at the night sky
Then back to my angel friend
I knew she would be leaving
It was time for goodbyes; this was the end

The angel smiled brightly
Then revealed her disguise
I stood in amazement
I gazed into her eyes

Her face brightly glowing
Her hair fell down in curls
She smiled at me so brightly
Wearing a necklace of pearls

We stood staring at each other
Then I would realize
That there stood my mother
Angel in disguise

Dimension: 11"X14" on 140 Pound Strathmore watercolor paper

Medium: Acrylics

A Summer Evening Churchyard, Lechlade, Gloucestershire


THE wind has swept from the wide atmosphere
Each vapour that obscured the sunset's ray,
And pallid Evening twines its beaming hair
In duskier braids around the languid eyes of Day:
Silence and Twilight, unbeloved of men,
Creep hand in hand from yon obscurest glen.

They breathe their spells towards the departing day,
Encompassing the earth, air, stars, and sea;
Light, sound, and motion, own the potent sway,
Responding to the charm with its own mystery.
The winds are still, or the dry church-tower grass
Knows not their gentle motions as they pass.

Thou too, aerial pile, whose pinnacles
Point from one shrine like pyramids of fire,
Obey'st I in silence their sweet solemn spells,
Clothing in hues of heaven thy dim and distant spire,
Around whose lessening and invisible height
Gather among the stars the clouds of night.

The dead are sleeping in their sepulchres:
And, mouldering as they sleep, a thrilling sound,
Half sense half thought, among the darkness stirs,
Breathed from their wormy beds all living things around,
And, mingling with the still night and mute sky,
Its awful hush is felt inaudibly.

Thus solemnized and softened, death is mild
And terrorless as this serenest night.
Here could I hope, like some enquiring child
Sporting on graves, that death did hide from human sight
Sweet secrets, or beside its breathless sleep
That loveliest dreams perpetual watch did keep.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Dimension: 8"X10" on Canvas Board
Medium: Acrylics

Song: Under the Boardwalk

When the sun beats down and burns the tar up on the roof,
And your shoes get so hot you wish your tired feet were fireproof,
Under the boardwalk, down by the sea,
On a blanket with my baby, that's where I'll be.

From the park you hear the happy sound of the carousel,
You can almost taste the hot dogs and french fries they sell,
Under the boardwalk, down by the sea,
On a blanket with my baby, that's where I'll be.

Under the boardwalk, (Out of the sun)
Under the boardwalk, (We'll be having some fun)
Under the boardwalk, (People walking above)
Under the boardwalk, (We'll be falling in love)
Under the boardwalk, (Boardwalk!)

Oooh, la la la la la la.
Oooh, la la la la la la la la la.
Help me somebody, sing some la la's with me.
Under the night, under the stars by the raging sea.
Under the boardwalk, down by the sea,
On a blanket with my baby, that's where I'll be.

Under the boardwalk, (Out of the sun)
Under the boardwalk, (We'll be having some fun)
Under the boardwalk, (People walking above)
Under the boardwalk, (We'll be falling in love)
Under the boardwalk, (Boardwalk!)

Medium: Acrylic on Mounted Canvas

Dimension: 10"X10"


A daughter find's her old mother's hat, and captures herself appreciating the moment of her mother's era of fashion.

"Go Ahead and Bloom"--A Philosophy

"When you wear a hat, it is like medicine for the soul. The hat is the expression of who you are as a women in every moment! The hat is your dreams of who you can be. It facilitates the different parts of who you are: With the wave of the hat, voila! You are mysterious...no, you are sexy...now proper...now playful.

You cannot hide in a hat; you will be noticed, especially by men. To men, you become a lady when you don a hat--one who they rush to open doors for. To women, you become an inspiration, reminding them that they have a closet full of hats they have not had the courage to wear.

When you wear a hat, you become the dream that started when the hat was conceived. The original energy that was put into the hat doesn't die; it only changes forms and owners. The dream doesn't die; it is passed on, sometimes from generation to generation.

And when you see a women in a hat in the next car on the freeway, the dream grows. We as women acknowledge each other's growth. It is the symbol of the feminine which is so needed for us and our earth to heal. So let's share this gift with as many as we wish to share such a vision. For...this is how you will 'Go Ahead and Bloom.' "

Medium: Brushed Ink

Dimension: 11”X14” on Strathmore Watercolor 140 pd Paper

Gentle and stunning brush strokes in brushed ink. Simple yet elegant are an embraced couple cheek to cheek in the dance. Mesmerizing!

Don’t say a word, Gaze into my eyes, Take my hand, and Just Dance With Me.

Dimension: 22"X28" on Stretch Bar Gesso Treated canvas

Medium: Acrylics

Something about camels that are special. They have long thin legs, can run, and cross deserts. Beautiful eyes and long eyelashes to protect them during their long travels in the sands. The camel's name here is "Cleo,'' obviously a short-name after the Egyptian Queen, "Cleopatra."

Cleopatra's Last Cocktail Party

“Name your poison,” said the host.
“You look as if you'd seen a ghost.”
Drink up--it can't be all that bad;
I hate to see you look so sad.”
She looked at him through kohl-rimmed eye,
“Martini,” she said.
“Extra dry.

“I've missed the Mark,
I've lost my lands,
Sweet Egypt's slipping through my hands.
So now they'll march me off to Rome,
And never let me come back home.
They will parade me though the streets
With all the shame that conquerors mete
To a proud queen whom the years
Have rendered dry though reign of tears.

"Ah well,
What's past is past,
And done is done.
I've lived a lifetime in the sun;
My course was swift
And swiftly run.
Tomorrow comes without our care;
Regrets are neither here nor there.

"But now I think I'll have a smoke;
Longevity is just a joke--
Could you give me a light?
And by the way,
I'd have to say
To hell with this stupid diet!
So what if I should gain a pound--
Who knows how long I'll be around?
I may indulge in something sweet;
What does it matter what I eat?
So please don't think that I'm a pig,
I'm simply dying for a fig.”

Poet-Faith Goble

Dimension: 16"X20" Gesso treated stretch bar canvas

Medium: Acrylics


Neuschwanstein Castle (German: Schloss Neuschwanstein, lit. New Swan Stone palace, is a 19th-century Bavarian palace on a rugged hill near Hohenschwangau and Füssen in southwest Bavaria, Germany. The palace was commissioned by Ludwig II of Bavaria as a retreat and as an homage to Richard Wagner, the King's inspiring muse. Although public photography of the interior is not permitted,[1] it is the most photographed building in Germany and is one of the country's most popular tourist destinations.[2] Ludwig himself named it Neue Hohenschwangau; the name Neuschwanstein was coined after his death.

The reclusive Ludwig did not allow visitors to his castles, which he intended as personal refuges, but after his death in 1886 the castle was opened to the public (in part due to the need to pay off the debts Ludwig incurred financing its construction).[citation needed] Since that time over 50 million people have visited the Neuschwanstein Castle.[3] About 1.3 million people visit annually, with up to 6,000 per day in the summer.[4] The palace has appeared in several movies, and was the inspiration for Sleeping Beauty Castle (1955) at both Disneyland Park and Hong Kong Disneyland.

In 1923 Crown Prince Rupprecht gave the palace to the state of Bavaria, unlike nearby Hohenschwangau Castle which was transferred to the private Wittelsbach Trust (Wittelsbacher Ausgleichfonds), which is administered on behalf of the head of the house of Wittelsbach, currently Franz, Duke of Bavaria. The Free State of Bavaria has spent more than €14.5 million on Neuschwanstein's maintenance, renovation and visitor services since 1990


Poem:
Neuschwanstein
Across the ocean and above the lands
Sits a legacy for all curious eyes.
An ivory castle on a lonely peak
Where even the clouds bow down
Beneath its soaring majestic spires.
It was the dream of one king not long ago
That flustered the brow of every fair maiden.
To build for beauty, hold art above war.
Dismissing tradition and logic for lies
And following a single dream to lands end.
He sat on the banks of the river Rhine
Imagining one original palace after the next.
Maybe he shopped in the Marienplatz
For velvet loveseats and porcelain swans
To adorn the seed of his hearts content.
But now the king has been gone for years.
And Bavaria has never quite been the same
Since the death of Kind Ludwig the mad.
His castles stand proud and greet the wanderers
And journeyman, and dreamers and historians alike.
Though all are rare in craft and dripping in style
One of his lonely dreams stands above the rest.
Reaching beyond the Alpine rolling skies
Coloring heaven with a touch of human royalty.
A place any Sleeping Beauty would pray to wake.
It is here, I fell in love again, twice in the time of a year.
First with the earth, its inhabitants achievements
And the very nature that hides them in its breast.
The lakes that capture the suns final rays,
The heaving mountains with their fancy caps of snow,
The whispering cow bells carried by the gentle winds
And the serenity of the painted villages sleeping below.
The second time was with a young mate
Who accompanied me to my secret place.
To cavort once the daily bustles had calmed.
He fell for the battlements I had loved before
Understood the treasures I longed to share.
He carried me up the mountain like a princess
To her new palace on the night they were wed.
He kissed me to the whimpering of waterfalls,
Then watched on as the sun sank to bed.
Blessed be whoever may fall upon this place
Tucked into the heart of the Bavarian Alps
For this is the spot where I proudly left my heart,
And left Neuschwanstein for widened eyes to behold.


~Robyn Schwartz~ (10/17/2001)

Christmas! That Special time of year for children of all ages. I still believe in Santa Claus, because I make Christmas a part of my life everyday. Santa Claus here in this illustration is getting Rudolph, the red nosed reindeer, ready for the best time of the year flight. What a wonderful time of the year! 'Merry Christmas To All, and To All, A Good Night"

site: www.helenasartgallery.com
email: helena@helenasartgallery.com

A daughter find's her old mother's hat, and captures herself appreciating the moment of her mother's era of fashion.

I grew up loving the gentle soul Michael Jackson...his music, his moonwalk, his moves...and when I heard the news he passed away...I literally wept. I had this dream of Michael Jackson, and felt this was a calling for me to paint him. This painting is in memory of the greatest legend in my times, and as for all times. I picked one of my favorite songs he sang,"I'll Be There," when he was young...as I know he never left and will always be there!

You and I must make a pact, we must bring salvation back Where there is love, I'll be there I'll reach out my hand to you, I'll have faith in all you do Just call my name and I'll be there I'll be there to comfort you, Build my world of dreams around you, I'm so glad that I found you I'll be there with a love that's strong I'll be your strength, I'll keep holding on Let me fill your heart with joy and laughter Togetherness, well that's all I'm after Whenever you need me, I'll be there I'll be there to protect you, with an unselfish love that respects you Just call my name and I'll be there If you should ever find someone new, I know he'd better be good to you 'Cause if he doesn't, I'll be there Don't you know, baby, yeah yeah I'll be there, I'll be there, just call my name, I'll be there (Just look over your shoulders, honey - oo) I'll be there, I'll be there, whenever you need me, I'll be there Don't you know, baby, yeah yeah I'll be there, I'll be there, just call my name, I'll be there...

On our journey through life, we encounter many things that inspire us. This tree inspired me, and took my breathe away. I am just enjoying the journey with the small inspirations that come my path.

The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. ... Albert Einstein

I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the earth's sweet flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all day, And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in Summer wear A nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain. Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree. -- Joyce Kilmer

The Prince's Gardens, Prince of Wales personal gardens. Absolutely a must see, with swirls, twirls of strokes, marvelous shapes in mixed media, of brushed ink, watercolour, and charcoal.
Please view Helen's works on www.helenasartgallery.com or for quality prints, framed works, stretched canvas or notecards on www.fineartamerica.com

One of Helena's favorite paintings of mother and her first born child. A story within this painting.

As each woman is assimlated to this ideal, her individual features are transformed and on some occasions, merged with her rivals. Similarly the characteristic costume of one woman may also be found in a portrait of another.

Please view Helen's works on www.helenasartgallery.com or for quality prints, framed works, stretched canvas or notecards on www.fineartamerica.com

Award winning impressionistic original outdoor painting. Europea flair, making you feel having a informal outdoor gathering.


Please view Helen's works on www.helenasartgallery.com or for quality prints, framed works, stretched canvas or notecards on www.fineartamerica.com

Abstract yet figurative array of colorful vases in all shapes and sizes. The whimsical image makes one feel there is a carnival in town.



Please view Helen's works on www.helenasartgallery.com or for quality prints, framed works, stretched canvas or notecards on www.fineartamerica.com