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A Way Station Painting

Philip Leister

Painting, Acrylic on Canvas

Size: 48 W x 72 H x 1.5 D in

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About The Artwork

“The campfire fantasy had turned into fact and the Earth now was on galactic charts, a way station for many different peoples traveling star to star. Strangers once, but now there were no strangers. There were no such things as strangers. In whatever form, with whatever purpose, all of them were people.” “He had told Ulysses of the danger of it that first day they'd met. He'd been sitting on the steps that led up to the porch, and thinking of it now, he could remember it as clearly as if it had been only yesterday.” “Enoch said smugly: ‘I am that type of mind.’” “‘…but the underlying reason, when you get down to basics, rests squarely on the continual contest for racial or regional advantage. A situation akin, I would imagine, to the continual bickering and maneuvering which you find here upon the Earth to gain an economic advantage for one group or another, or one nation and another.’” “‘I eat anything,’ Ulysses said. ‘My race is most adaptable.’” “But one should not censure Man, he reminded himself, for setting the speed of light as a basic limitation. Observations were all that Man-or anyone, for that matter—could use as data upon which to base his premises.And since human science had so far found nothing which consistently moved faster than the speed of light, then the assumption must be valid that nothing could or did consistently move faster. But valid as an assumption only and no more than that.” “Our horizons are so far, he thought, and we see so little of them. Even now, with flaming rockets striving from Canaveral to break the ancient bonds, we dream so little of them.” “‘…that is something I have done. On many nights, camping in the field, I have lain in my blankets and looked up at the sky, looking at the stars and wondering what they were and how they'd been put up there and, most important of all, why they had been put up there.’” -Clifford D. Simak (Way Station)

Details & Dimensions

Painting:Acrylic on Canvas

Original:One-of-a-kind Artwork

Size:48 W x 72 H x 1.5 D in

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I’m (I am?) a self-taught artist, originally from the north suburbs of Chicago (also known as John Hughes' America). Born in 1984, I started painting in 2017 and began to take it somewhat seriously in 2019. I currently reside in rural Montana and live a secluded life with my three dogs - Pebbles (a.k.a. Jaws, Brandy, Fang), Bam Bam (a.k.a. Scrat, Dinki-Di, Trash Panda, Dug), and Mystique (a.k.a. Lady), and five cats - Burglekutt (a.k.a. Ghostmouse Makah), Vohnkar! (a.k.a. Storm Shadow, Grogu), Falkor (a.k.a. Moro, The Mummy's Kryptonite, Wendigo, BFC), Nibbler (a.k.a. Cobblepot), and Meegosh (a.k.a. Lenny). Part of the preface to the 'Complete Works of Emily Dickinson helps sum me up as a person and an artist: "The verses of Emily Dickinson belong emphatically to what Emerson long since called ‘the Poetry of the Portfolio,’ something produced absolutely without the thought of publication, and solely by way of expression of the writer's own mind. Such verse must inevitably forfeit whatever advantage lies in the discipline of public criticism and the enforced conformity to accepted ways. On the other hand, it may often gain something through the habit of freedom and unconventional utterance of daring thoughts. In the case of the present author, there was no choice in the matter; she must write thus, or not at all. A recluse by temperament and habit, literally spending years without settling her foot beyond the doorstep, and many more years during which her walks were strictly limited to her father's grounds, she habitually concealed her mind, like her person, from all but a few friends; and it was with great difficulty that she was persuaded to print during her lifetime, three or four poems. Yet she wrote verses in great abundance; and though brought curiosity indifferent to all conventional rules, had yet a rigorous literary standard of her own, and often altered a word many times to suit an ear which had its own tenacious fastidiousness." -Thomas Wentworth Higginson "Not bad... you say this is your first lesson?" "Yes, but my father was an *art collector*, so…"

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