Uncertainty 18 X 24 Mixed Media Acrylic


The end of an uneventful spring day, some might even call it a boring day. There was nothing really exciting about it, nothing “different” happened.  It was a day like countless others that came before.  It is easy to allow it to pass unnoticed and unappreciated.

Now, as the long shadows come and night approaches, we look to the east and see storm clouds in the distance. Questions swirl. Is it building or dissipating? How close is it? Is it coming this way? Are there other unseen storms nearby? When will it get here? How bad will it be? Will it strike unseen and unexpected in the coming darkness? Will there be other storms? Will we be OK?


The storm brings with it a gift, the gift of wisdom. In the future we will know the value of an ordinary day, and we will be grateful. 

Created during the COVID-19 Pandemic / Image and text © James Golaszewski 2020

“In the end, everything will be okay. If it’s not okay, it’s not yet the end.”                   

                 Fernando Sabino (from Portuguese)

A Fresh Slant

A Fresh Slant 22 X 24 Mixed Media Acrylic

A Fresh Slant

When attempting to solve complex problems or resolve contentious issues I always examine the problem from as many angles as possible. When pondering things that have the potential to upset me, I attempt to conduct the deliberations in the daytime because I have learned that the dark nights tend to foster dark thoughts, and the morning light always brings a more optimistic interpretation of the situation.

This composition is all about angles, from the diagonal rooflines and planks, to the slanting illumination from the early morning sun. The sunlight is important to this composition, because the low angled light of the early morning sun illuminates places that are normally obscured by shadow, providing “A Fresh Slant” on the situation.

Image and text © 2020 James Golaszewski

Come What May

Come What May


Enter the clamor

And expose yourself

To an onslaught from all sides

Or, remain at the railing, watching…


Are an illusion

Because to remain

Is choosing not to begin

And there is no life, until the beginning…


You may get hurt

The metallic screeching

The lights and cascading sparks

The cacophony and chaos and uncertainty…


Is surely inevitable

The ride will come to an end

The length of time is not a choice

The richness of the experience is the only variable…


Hit after hit

The others continue

Shaken by each impact, but joyful still

You enter, knowing your spirit will endure… Come What May.

Image and text © 2019 James Golaszewski all rights reserved

Puddle Stompin’ Boogie

Puddle Stompin’ Boogie 30 X 24

After a heavy downpour this summer, my 3-year-old granddaughter was walking with me as I was dragging my garbage can down our long driveway to the roadside.  As we walked I took a serpentine path around the puddles.  My granddaughter had a different strategy. She was taking an equally serpentine path with one significant difference, she was seeking out each and every puddle. As she got to each one she would take a running-jumping-full-body-double-footed leap into the deepest part of the puddle. KABOOM! Water would go flying in all directions and she would give a triumphant squeal, then she would target the next puddle.

I started to tell her to stop, then I had a realization. Sometimes you have to make the best of a bad situation.

When the cold rains come, get your umbrella and go dancing through life with soggy shoes, doing the Puddle Stompin’ Boogie.

Image and text © 2019 James Golaszewski

Well, if it rains, I don’t care
Don’t make no difference to me
Just take that streetcar that’s goin’ uptown
Yeah, I’d like to hear some funky Dixieland and dance a honky-tonk
And I’ll be buyin’ ev’rybody drinks all ‘roun’

From “Black Water” as written by and Pat Simmons.

When The Long Days End

When The Long Days End 24 X 48 © 2019 James Golaszewski Mixed Media Acrylic

This is my newest painting, “When The Long Days End “, showing a classic grain elevator embraced by a fall sunset. You will notice that even as the sun sets and the day comes to an end, the lights are on and it appears that work is still taking place in the upper longhouse over the horizontal conveyors.

Being “a man of a certain age”, I am at a point in my life where my thoughts easily turn to musings about the passing of time and how to make the best use of what remains of my life.

Some of my contemporaries have decided to take the approach that includes “downsizing” their lives and “elderizing” their homes (you know, a condo with no yard work, a walk-in tub, no stairs, wide doorways…) in preparation for anticipated frailty.

I know this is probably the most practical approach, but it is not for me.

These thoughts were on my mind, which led me to the desire to express these thoughts in a painting. The course of a lifetime is frequently compared to the four seasons, with spring representing birth and the energy, hope, and promise of youth; and winter exemplifying old age and death. Using this analogy, I am in the autumn of life, a season where the seemingly endless long hot days of summer give way to the short days and long cool nights of fall. 

I know the Grim Reaper and I will meet some day, but I am not going to make it easy for him and I sure as hell am not going to meet him halfway.  I still have things to do.

In other words, It ain’t winter yet.

There is still work to be done, When The Long Days End.

Image and text © 2019 James Golaszewski

24 X 48 Mixed Media Acrylic