$ 350.00 $ 400.00
"When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well, with my soul."
Weidmann gently weaves a sea of script back into the context from which it first transpired. In the 1800's, Horatio Spafford's, "It Is Well With My Soul," was penned while crossing the ocean scene where the lives of his four daughters were lost in a tragic shipwreck. These words, heavy with feeling and brilliant with praise and peace, are well-worn into the souls of many as one of the world's most beloved hymns. In the midst of terrible loss and heartache, we can declare, "it is well, it is well with my soul!"
$ 300.00
From the burning embers of Weidmann’s imagination, this piece is brought to life through swirling tones of charcoal and graphite. With a reminiscent gaze upon his weathered face, a sailor peers into the smoke of his pipe, recalling his adventures at sea. More than an illusory transition of smoke to sea to man, this piece speaks to the cyclical motion of life: the rough waters that pass beneath you form the person you will become.
$ 150.00
"Salt, sea, and air are we ..."
Words become the very waves on which the vessel sails in this collaboration with poet and writer, Eleanor Perry-Smith. As a nod to history, the poem was written in a sixteenth-century English manor and crosses the Atlantic in its use of Spencerian script, the first American-style penmanship. This script was first inspired by the flow of moving water; it circulates back to its original muse in both form and function as the script becomes the sea. The words themselves are the image and their cadence lulls like water, sending out whispers of a sailor’s tale.
Semblance:
"Salt, sea and air are we
who wander 'cross the globe,
Yet tale be told and night behold
the hour my shadow froze
Voyage set as those before
crate packing merrily,
We pushed from port forevermore
but unbeknownst to me
The tide set high, vessel set sail
sun skipping on the waves,
How can it be this shining sea
is also host to graves?
My thoughts turned bright and chest filled tight
with heaven’s purest wind,
A red sky rose to our delight
a gift from our glowing friend
The crew at ease with such degrees
our latitude assured,
Our gullets soaked in God’s brown ale
went sleeping filled with his word
But ‘ere the cover of the night
cast horrors yet unseen,
Water frothed and shook about
as souls rose from beneath to feed
A cry rang from the crow’s nest
and I, but half awake,
Rose to face with hazy grace
the threat my life to take
Yet we were unprepared as such
for on what our eyes did gaze,
the dripping apparitions
cast from the ocean’s deepest graves
Our fortune set to rising
the dawn began to wake,
but it eclipsed and so we missed
the chance our souls to save
The crescent of the orb
shown behind the cold moon rock,
Not enough glory to command
our banshees to stop
They swept throughout the vessel
the crew they petrified,
Covered in a binding frost
Yet somehow I survived!
The soul it did not see me
and in a manner I don’t claim to know,
Protruding light concealed my bones
and curse was cast upon my shadow
At last the light awakened
gulls called out to the day,
alone I sat upon the deck
all hands were swept away
Though the sun it blistered
on my back it bluntly shined,
As I stared upon the planks
I was lacking in an outline
Feeling as half a man
revenge grabbed hold my heart,
I would wait for those savage souls
and take back my shadow in the dark
As night sank in, once again
those spooks rose up to feed,
and surprised they were, as with my torch
I sought what belonged to me
Alas I found it nowhere
but the spooks I recognized,
They were my own crew from before
yet in their damned disguise
I was born a fighter
a sailor second best,
So sailing about forevermore, I roam
till my outline sinks back into my chest."
For more on Eleanor Perry-Smith and her writing, please visit http://www.ep-s.com/
$ 75.00
Sailors of long ago looked to the heavens to find their way on this earth. Though the seas would churn and the winds would blow, the heavens remained their constant guide. Burning stars above would chart their course across tumultuous seas, which threatened to claim their lives. Beyond the stars sailors spoke of a greater force, which they believed kept them safe and guided them home- this was the divine.
A ‘sojourner’ is a traveler who does not stay long in any one place. Whether we are literally traveling across an open sea or simply making our way through life, we are all sojourners. So, within the center of the compass rose is a ship sailing across high seas- a reminder that life brings waves to crash against our hull and test the strength of our vessel.
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© 2018 Jake Weidmann Artist and Master Penman
