Through Painters’ Eyes
Verse 1
On the sidewalks of Duvall Street
Through the salesmen and the crowds
Sits a painter and his canvas
Using his easel as a shroud
He paints the sea breeze and the skyline
From the colors in his jar
His pallet swirls with his emotion
While his soul is drifting far
To see the world though his eyes
To see the whisper of the wind
The fettered feelings of a new day
With every painting he begins
CHORUS
And tonight I’m going to dance
Live my life out on a chance
Like a bumblebee in flight
Having no good reason why
See the world though painters’ eyes
Verse 2
Like a panther in the nighttime
Right in view but hard to see
Life will show it’s little answers
In the outlines that we see
Careful not to look to closely
Watch the pictures in the clouds
Chase an osprey through the twilight
Or the shadows on the ground
CHORUS
And tonight I’m going to dance
Live my life out on a chance
Like a bumblebee in flight
Having no good reason why
Like a bumblebee in flight
Having no good reason why
Monday, December 15, 2008
Copyright 1999 by Daniel Taddei
all rights reserved
About “Though Painter’s Eyes”
There is a street in Key West that harbors the local venders, artists and local tour promoters. Anyone that has ever been to Key West will know where it is – it’s a fun place to go walking through.
One day, while walking down the road there, I noticed a painter among the pack of painters that had his easel backwards so that no one could his painting in progress. The other painters were boldly displaying their work for all the passers by and daintily touching color to their canvases. The other soul painter had hands swirling like a mad scientist inventing a new monster. I walked back to have a look and saw what normally could only be seen in a large city museum. His painting was the typical view that others were painting but his image was so deep and layered that it was a living, moving scene. It was more real then reality.
I was living on my boat at that time and didn’t have room for a 5 foot frame so I just admired his work and moved on. The next day, I was walking through the same area and there he was again in the same creative rage. I looked and found yet another painting, of equal amazement. The impact of his brush didn’t really come to full swing in my mind until later on but then one day while napping in the afternoon and thinking back to those images, a song landed in my brain. I quickly jotted the song down and it stands as I wrote it without changes. I can’t tell you the painters though I wish I could. Though Painter’s Eyes is a direct inspiration from his brush to my hands.
