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‘Make It Up As We Go Along’ Painting

Philip Leister

Painting, Acrylic on Canvas

Size: 24 W x 48 H x 0.5 D in

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About The Artwork

Home is where I want to be Pick me up and turn me round I feel numb, burn with a weak heart I guess I must be having fun The less we say about it the better Make it up as we go along Feet on the ground Head in the sky It's ok I know nothing's wrong... nothing Hi yo I got plenty of time Hi yo you got light in your eyes And you're standing here beside me I love the passing of time Never for money Always for love Cover up + say goodnight... say goodnight ... Home, is where I want to be But I guess I'm already there I come home, she lifted up her wings Guess that this must be the place I can't tell one from another Did I find you, or you find me? There was a time before we were born If someone asks, this where I'll be where I'll be Hi yo we drift in and out Hi yo sing into my mouth Out of all those kinds of people You got a face with a view I'm just an animal looking for a home Share the same space for a minute or two And you love me till my heart stops Love me till I'm dead Eyes that light up, eyes look through you Cover up the blank spots Hit me on the head ah ooh ‘This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)’ by the Talking Heads Songwriters: C. Frantz / T. Weymouth / D. Byrne / J. Harrison "This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)" is a song by new wave band Talking Heads, released in November 1983 as the second single from its fifth album Speaking in Tongues. The lyrics were written by David Byrne, and the music was written by Byrne and the other members of the band, Chris Frantz, Tina Weymouth and Jerry Harrison. Source: Wikipedia

Details & Dimensions

Painting:Acrylic on Canvas

Original:One-of-a-kind Artwork

Size:24 W x 48 H x 0.5 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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