Couple of things from this weekend. This one was made with a piece of the handmade paper Kerfe gave me, with three figures cut out of another painting. It’s different for me. Just go with it, I say.
My husband is still not feeling 100%. We just took a walk on a brisk sunny day here in NJ and he felt winded. Covid is no joke. This painting reflects my dreams which have been weird but not that scary.
Hoping for the best and for spring!
in and out
linger in passing–
This week I’m showing some recessed doors. They make for handsome entrances. I’m not sure what the turquoise stripe at the top is in the doorway above. It looks like a reflection of some sort–I’ll have to look for this doorway again.
The doorway below has interesting brickwork.
Here’s some information on the organization that owns The Three Arts Club building, above. “West Side Federation For Senior and Supportive Housing, Inc. (WSFSSH) was formed in 1976 by a coalition of social service agencies, religious institutions, and community organizations. Together we worked to create a new form of housing – one that would meet the diverse needs of older people and persons living with special needs.” I like the way their buildings are integrated into the neighborhood. There is certainly a great need for this kind of housing.
You can see more doors, hosted by Dan Antion, here.
Will life spill over, fall from the heavens,
cascading down below, overflowing its limits, breaking through?
How to become the ritual that includes, gathers,
distributes everything as if it belonged to all.
Spirit dancing on currents, following the vibrating lines
of a delicate web, through portals, ancient stories
that talk of roots, the branches of trees
keeping the world order balanced and growing—true.
Everyone is born with the ability to make a choice.
You cannot stop the spread of lies by spreading more lies.
Fear stalks its own reflection.
The call of truth involves danger.
A compromise with evil is not possible.
Move at the abiding center of things and you never go astray.
I started my Beach I Ching series the first year Nina and I began our blog, 2014, when I was photographing the things I had collected on the beach and noticed they formed hexagrams. I did a lot of them the first two years and then they fell by the wayside. But each trip to the beach I photographed more. One of my intentions for the past two years is to get back to doing them.
In Guai the water is above, the heavens below. It is a time when renewal is possible, a breakthrough. But it is a mistake to go about this cleansing in a negative way. And remember to be generous, and share the bounty. Be resolute and persevere.
The poem is in the Bagua form, which consists of 8 lines of 8 words each, divided into 2 stanzas.
After being sick in bed with Covid for four weeks my dear husband was admitted to the hospital last week. He had Covid and staph pneumonia and was quite sick. He finally saw an infectious disease doctor and she put him in the hospital. He still tested positive for Covid and was in isolation. Finally I got to see him on Saturday and he was discharged on Sunday. He is home and feeling better.
This piece is a collage I gave him shortly after we were married in 1981.
I am thankful to have him home and hoping fervently that he will make a complete recovery.
It looks like
long ago and
waiting for once
seems to be expecting us.
Diana Peach provided the above image for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday which, of course, was perfect for Thursday Doors. I wrote my poem, a Whitney (3/4/3/4/3/4/7) to her image and then looked in my door photo archive for suitable doors to match. I was enchanted by the way the top door matched so beautifully its gate.
This door has always seemed mysterious to me. Where does the shadowy staircase inside lead?
And for some reason this door always makes me think of Hobbits. Plenty of enchantment there.
Dan Antion is the host of Thursday Doors–you can visit them all and add your own here.
Some views on combinations and recombinations.
Our last Kick-About, inspired by the writings of Gaston Bachelard, encouraged us to examine our domestic spaces and think about the physical and emotional parameters of home. Now, with John Stezaker’s uneasy marriage between photographic fragments as our starting pointing, we’re exploring issues of identity, affinity and discord.
“Life can be scary – survival of the fittest – relationships can bring together different strengths, and if nothing more, give you the courage to bungle on. My image is simple – a river pushing dangerous detritus along – life. I was wanting to have an overlay of two figures swirling about and holding hands but it was too naive looking, and too complicated with the background, so I struggled to find an alternative representation. The lines represent two different shades of people (a couple – sorry such a vanilla representation of marriage) and their individual positive qualities merging…
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It’s been a long Covid haul at my house. I was down for two weeks. My husband is on day 22 of a very bad case (despite us all being triple vaxxed). My daughter also tested positive but was asymptomatic.
I got a chance to do some painting. I have a few going as usual but consider these two done.
I hope everyone is keeping safe and warm; another chilly day here on the east coast. Spring is coming!
An opening is full of mystery–
new passages, a shifting point of view.
What lies beyond this threshold—destiny?
Whose feet have trod this path, what history
has left its imprint here, its residue?
An opening is full of mystery.
Myriad layers of peripheries
cause our vision to be displaced, confused.
What lies beyond this threshold—destiny?
We wish for knowledge, rules, simplicity,
something more than a vague amorphous clue–
an opening is full of mystery.
A mirror to affirm validity,
a way to start again, transform, renew—
what lies beyond this threshold—destiny?
A life of meaning, synchronicity–
the what the where the why the how the who–
an opening is full of mystery.
What lies beyond is waiting—what will be?
This closed off doorway to what must have once been an elegant building, the Saxony, has always seemed mysterious–particularly since it’s been ornamented with a potted tree. A little research indicates it’s been merged with a neighboring building into a larger co-op, so I guess that’s where the entrance is located now. I’ll have to go back and look for it. It seems a shame that they closed it off. Emory Roth is a well known architect and designed many residences on the Upper West Side. You can see a photo of the entire building here.
I wrote the villanelle for Ingrid’s prompt at dVerse, bending the rules a bit, as I tend to do.
You can join in Thursday doors here.
In your native landscape
they call you taka chor—
always wanting more, more–
Filling trees with loud calls,
to be both heard and seen–
crow to the core
The rufous treepie, a long-tailed bird native to India and southeast Asia, is known locally as taka chor, or “coin stealer”. Like all corvids, it loves shiny objects, and has no misgivings about taking anything that catches its eye.
Also, like all crows, it will eat pretty much anything, and is intelligent, adaptable, and opportunistic.
Primarily arboreal, it feeds mostly among the forest cover, and will often hunt with other bird species to flush out more insects from the trees. As its woodland habitat decreases, however, it has learned to live in urban parks and yards, and has no problem eating discarded human food or road kill, if that’s what’s available.
I chose the rufous treepie while looking for orange and black birds in honor of the Year of the Tiger. That may be my bird theme for the year–there are many to choose from.
The poem is an abhanga for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday. Appropriately, an Indian poetic form.
The top bird was done with brush and ink, the middle one is neocolors, and the bottom one is colored pencil with ink outlines–I found a feather quill pen I bought years ago in a box. It’s a bit tricky to use, and I’m out of practice. But I enjoyed working with it again.
of serendipity and
I made a folder of all my arched door photos and noticed there were a number of paired ones, some identical and some not. I like the Jizo statues (at least that’s what I think they are) on the right steps of the top photo. That’s also a very handsome door.
Two different approaches–the one on the left here is looking for more privacy. On the right they painted their railings to match the door.
These modern doors don’t live up to the wonderful surround–I especially like the faces at the top of the arches.
And here’s a pair of arched windows on a beautiful building in sad disrepair.
I’ve written a shadorma to accompany the doors. And the title? I was listening to JT this morning. He still sounds good.
And, as always, visit Dan Antion the host of Thursday Doors, here to see more doors and share your own.