Well the rain rain falls
all morning up on the roof
out of mind (mind) (mind)
You may remember that Claudia McGill and I did a collaboration with writing, and I said I would do some stitching over the final project to add another layer. After a delay with running out of the embroidery floss I was using and my generally slow pace of stitching, the results are above. I took Claudia’s words from her deconstructed poem and made a kind of haiku from them, and then cross-stitched most of it on the writing.
I really like the way the “wrong” side of cross-stitched makes mysterious patterns in an unknown graphic language, so that’s the side that shows up over the writing. But it looks nice on its own as well (as you can see, I used the back of a paper from an old sweater design for my original letter–no paper goes to waste in my artistic pursuits!) Here’s how it looked before I stitched it:
Nina and I are both overwhelmed with life at the moment, so we are again suspending our posts until we can actually make a regular creating time. But I will still be checking in when I can to see what everyone’s up to.
“No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.”
–Martin Luther King Jr.
I consulted the Oracle this week with Colleen’s Challenge #66 in mind (synonyms for guide and destination). The collage is an old one, from 1980–I did a series of lighthouses, inside and out, although this is the only one I found so far in the storage room. It seemed to fit.
sailing on starclouds—
beacon dancing with fools
inside the outcome
wondering why then suddenly where
diving divining reflecting sky scrying
and the tree and the meaning of be
the birth in the sky and the void in the flow
rising in greyness
the mystery flying
letting and leaving the tree now receiving
carries that no one can see
the sky grey the tree
For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt above. I can no more resist a crow than the moon.
Also linking to open link night on dVerse.
Opposite is what? See mirrors
of waters shimmering beyond borders,
forming visions. Images shatter.
What are realities? Here is there–
nowhere to go but around. Circles.
Time changes light.
Light changes what is unseen.
The answer will echo and move
between. Always and both,
particle and wave, wave and particle,
both. And always between.
Move, and echo will answer. The
unseen is what changes light.
Light changes time,
circles around. But go to nowhere–
there is here. Realities are what
shatter images–visions forming
borders beyond shimmering waters of
mirrors. See what is. Opposite.
dVerse challenged us to use one of Sharon Knight’s beautiful landscapes to inspire. I used her photo “Kaleidoscopy”, above. Perfect for a Rorschach painting and a palindrome poem.
This is my original painting; the top one is “enhanced” in Photoshop. My favorite way to spend time–playing with colors, shapes, and words.
waiting, shadowed, briered–
rooted secrets blooming blood red
Another cinquain, in response to Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above. The collage ended up feeling more ominous than I intended.
Fairy tales do have a way of mingling the dark with the light though.
Paul Simon said that one man’s ceiling is another man’s floor. Whose floor is the sky? Does it open at night to spill the dance of the stars, the sailing of the moon, into our earth-bound feet?
Moving toward eclipse–
double reckoning of light
bearing winter’s tides.
My windows become eyes to let the nightshine in.
Could I resist the dVerse winter moon haibun prompt?
This was my best photo of the first New Year’s Moon (that’s a rubber band that was on the floor…how did that happen?).
“When your rooster crows at the break a dawn
Look out your window and I’ll be gone…”
–Bob Dylan, “Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right”
You say you’re leaving–
but your crowing lingers,
louder than the blackest cry,
echoing down that dark side
where your soul wanders, lost,
afraid to open either window or door.
Did you really once love?
I wonder not why, but how–
how and where and who—
Who? The call that you can’t hear
is not for you. Not your name,
but a chorus for a new dawn—
(when you’ll be gone)–bound
for a land beyond the telling.
It’s all right then; it’s all right.
It’s Draw-a-Bird Day, and I’d like to say (almost) good-bye to the Year of the Rooster. I did 3 Bird Day posts with roosters last year, but my initial post, for the Chinese New Year in 2017, has an eerie similarity to this (not so fond) goodbye. As I said in that post: “The disruption of the Year of the Monkey gives way to more intensity….the cockiness of the Year of the Rooster. Most of the predictions I read online for 2017 were not too positive. They recommended keeping your head down, staying organized, and working hard.” My poem even mentioned the Dark Side.
Let’s hope the Year of the Dog is kinder to birds (and all other living creatures as well).
Kerfe emailed me to remind me it’s Draw a Bird Day. I drew a bird of many colors in ink then filled in with trusty NeoColors.
This is direct steal from the Brookdale Park Conservancy. It was so cute and clever that I had to copy it. Whomever did this logo is very clever! I will send them a donation to atone for being a thief.
Of course I had to paint color in. The black and white is very cool though.
Happy Draw a Bird Day!
hunting, calling, longing,
gathering beginnings and ends–
I haven’t tried a cinquain for Colleen’s Poetry Challenge yet, but it seemed to fit the beautiful full moon of the New Year. I often find strict rules help in focusing my thoughts, and that was definitely the case here.
And no, you haven’t seen the last of that moon in my art and words…