Thursday, October 1, 2026

59



The 6th Decade

5 more days and you’ll give away, your 50s

Are you talking to me?

He stared in the mirror separate from himself

At this age

There’s no point in calling anyone else

Except mom

She’s always there

How long you acted like you didn’t care

But time shows us our minuses

And I’ve decided to add

Add gratitude to the menu

Everyone is starving but no one would choose

The cheapest, easiest appetizer

Appreciation and contentment

But we’ve been starved

5 more days, you will see in the mirror

Who you thought you’d be

And who you are.



The specialist asks questions

Like a thread and a needle forms a quilt

Or a line and a hook catches prey

What would you like to talk about today

The counselor sits uncomfortable

When they have the scalpel

I felt my inner child dissected

And it spoke so eloquently that day

He gave up all he was willing to say

And shuddered emotionally under the weight

The counselor shared a story that day

Something that would stay with the patient

For the rest of his days

And it was marked with God

And a careful hand

A blessing, a warning,

That’s hard to understand

Sunday, September 27, 2026

From Purple Shadows, Flame - Artbygordon Poetry- Volume 1


Jain-Inspired by Singer







Farewell to a Muse

Winter Speaks



An Excerpt from From Purple Shadows Flame- Artbygordon.com-
Stay tuned for a link to entire collection-22 pages of poetry on artbygordonblog.com




Saturday, September 26, 2026

Memories of the Sea



Some Memories of the Sea


Galveston...I remember the shrimp boats patrolling, we were all so much younger then,
The candy apple greens and the gulls calling,
those blue wooden homes near the shore, or across the street
the sand on your feet, the sound of the hoses spraying every last bit of sand,
you'd always miss some...
and the morning coffee, a ritual,
the quiet I can barely capture these days
all the beauty of that moment
captured, in words and pictures
as memories
fade.


I want to chase the sky
to see the sun descending
and the moments biding time
I want to be a stranger in an unfamiliar place
I want no one to know me
or recognize my face,
I'm already there I guess
the loneliness gave it away
I want to disappear out in the space
the highway
the forgiving highway
guides my way.



So small we are to the sea,
so small, like grains of sand
or the petulant weed.
I remember everything said a ghost crab
at night,
I remember everything a child
standing by my side.
and the sea is so large
compared to us
so powerful
so destructive
but we never get enough.
Out on the sand, memories whispered among the gulls
so small we are to the sea
how small our disagreements
seem.


Florida

Sunday, September 20, 2026

Fruits of Ruin


Passionvine

An anomaly of a flower, out of a garden of purple incarnata, one single white flower with a pink center. 
I still haven't found a second one. I can only assume a recessive gene found it's place in the universe and in a garden of purple, a solitary white bloom.


Saturday, September 19, 2026

Wisdoms Gained being a Stepdad

Stepparenting: A Life-Changing Experience

4 min readJust now

I started writing this many years ago- I just posted it on Medium.

I don’t prefer the word stepdad. The word minimizes an honorable position in a family. Parenting is the most difficult job; challenging, heartbreaking, and inspiring.

I’ve raised two sons, my first was a stepson-what began as a risky endeavor became an incredible experience, an honor that has changed my life.

Raising kids is not for the faint of heart. You are sculpting individuals who must remain separate from yourself. They should be encouraged to make their own decisions. We hope they choose the best path but often the wrong path is how they discover themselves.

My Stepson and his son-artbygordon pastel on paper

The Perks of Failure

Failures are teaching lessons, integral aspects of an adolescent becoming an adult; the wisdoms they develop are beyond the scope of well-meaning parents.

I learned from my mom and my own stepdad how to show up, to share interests and add adventure in everyday life. I watched someone who wrestled with authority and the lack of it at times.

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My Stepson’s Son and his Grandpa- Pastel on paper artbygordon

Playing the Cards You were Dealt

One of the greatest realizations is you don’t hold all the cards and your hand is limited. You have multiple families all seeking to help and offer assistance in raising a child and your intentions are in question from the start.

Your authority is always in question and you have to walk a thin line to not overstep and yet keep a level of respect.

In those early years, I was the one to get down on the floor and talk open and direct to a two year old. I listened to the excitement he felt about finding a bug or a special rock, I asked questions, I was present.

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My Sons and One of their own

Strength is Not Showing the Power You Possess or Lack

When you have limited power you find other ways to direct. You draw a line you refuse to cross to avoid causing more harm. Your discression will seem to others as helpless and indecisive but parenting is not about shear force, it is finesse.

This process taught me a useful parenting technique; ask yourself what your intention is before acting. Being a parent can be clumsy, the child will comply out of respect, fear or guilt. I always erred on respect which others may see as weakness.

Defining intention before acting allows for responding instead of reacting. Do you seek to let go of your stress, pound your chest, or do you want the child to truly listen? This exercise improves how a parent uses their words better maintains calm when others are losing control.

Some times when things get out of control and both parent and child are beyond their limits of reason, one needs to be the adult. One of you will need to de-escalate the situation and I can guarantee it will not be the child.

My Son Fishing-artbygordon oil on canvas

Tools in your Toolbox Like Cards In Your Hand

You have to be able to be fast on your feet, to adjust if needed, to apologize, regain control when it’s lost, again the child’s job is not to surrender — his job is to test the boundaries, to see who is in control.

Guilt can offer control but often at the detriment of the child and the inevitable hurt and resentment. Guilt is more destructive than it is productive.

Next is fear that will eventually become anger and distrust. A good manager earns their employee’s respect, they don’t need fear to motivate.

Respect is not something you will get from a teenager testing boundaries.

The All-Powerful Hug: Really it Works

Love is the bridge that reaches two sides who’ve become adversaries. Give a teen a hug, both of you have said things, done things, you’ve both lost the battle-you are at deadlock.

A genuine hug means I love you, I don’t like you right now but I love you. I have seen more positive results from this and when I’ve failed to be that bridge I’ve even had a teen remind me — “Why didn’t you just hug me.”

A hug is like saying we can’t agree but we live to fight another day. Parenting teaches us aspects of humanity, about strength and weakness, about honor and empathy. Being a stepdad has inspired me to be better. I feel honored to be a stepdad, a blessing that has changed my life.


I wrote this post and left it here for many years-it was a draft I just rekindled.

I wrote a series of poems years ago about raising my stepson-it was called Shaping the Illusive Form - series of trying to raise my son and the obstacles of being a step dad- please check back as I will be publishing the poetry shortly. 

One poem is about raising a child as an artist- It is probably pretty rough in that it was written so long ago but my summation is as follows. 

A Painter to a Son

My painting sits on an easel,
you want attention,
I'm covered in oil and linseed,
I set your watercolors out,
you ask questions, I try quickly to reply,
it's a tug of war between
your art and mine.

But we persist.
I teach you about form,
you show me color and texture,
unafraid you stain your canvas,
the floor, the wall,
I grimmace as mom walks by
my easel firm and tall.

While you scribble on canvas
your face, your hands,
I look with a bit of aggravation
though I try to understand
between two artists, we struggle
to succeed, all the lessons of being present
you've taught me

You ask me to look too much,
you ask me the same question
too many times to ignore
with all my frustration, I know you could see it,
I clean up the wall and scrub the floor
all that time, I hope I spent well
a moment we'll never restore
You smiled, and put down your canvas
you're not a child anymore.

To Kyle- My Stepson-The Son I Chose

Saturday, May 2, 2020

Ghost: A Photographic Exploration



A presence in the house, you can't see it but you can feel it. All the energy climbs the walls, haunts every beam in the floor. Those creaking stairs, how many stories created themselves in those dark cellars in Orange New Jersey.

Out front, the dark brown factory with broken windows, the cold stone steps, how many stories still to come, ghosts to fuel a child's fertile mind.



The energy of things, how objects take on energy and create a drama that is intangible. The writer, the artist thrives in those in-between places. Driving through the country, selling insurance, there were ghosts on every long country road.

There were things that had histories, I didn't know their stories but I wanted to. The shady cemeteries had voices and memories that were as real as the tall ancient trees that shaded them.

I live between the two worlds, nature and all its' beauty and the darkness on the edge of light. This is where I find my inspiration and excitement, I am haunted by energy and histories.