Archive by Author | memadtwo

Sailing, it becomes a star

sailing 2s

set adrift,
immersed and baptized–
breath held tight
shimmering–
breaking like the shades of waves
on cerebral shores

sailing close up s

I haven’t done one of the Secret Keeper’s prompts for awhile.  The words were just right for my painting.

 

1/13/2019. Still here.

The first page of the journal Kerfe sent me. The pages are nice and rough. I still don’t have an art space but at least I did a few journal/drawing entries.

He was right outside my window! It was extremely cold with a brisk wind.

I entirely forgot about Draw a Bird day. Just happened to come across a couple of good birds.

And a hawk my friend took outside his house.

I will not forget about February’s Draw a Bird day: a beloved WP tradition.

Collateral

collateral 2s

The sands of time flow
out of the hourglass, and years
fall backwards, crossing

through endings to ways that lead
before, accumulating—

Neither time nor life
can be saved and spent later–
it is always now

or yesterday retreating,
a hazy remembering,

the details broken
into shreds of brittle bones,
skull lurking beneath

a façade as fragile as
a wine glass, spilling with blood—

All those shiny words
lining flower-strewn pathways–
unvoiced, fallow, mute.

For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.

collateral close up s

 

 

 

Transition

transition s

It’s Paisley
Park.  No, it’s the dog
unguarding
us, the song
unsung, tangled and unformed,
a gathered ghosting.

Do you see
the fish, wandering
incomplete
in thin air?
Molecules abandoned to
endless departures.

Now exhale:
trust this unknown space.
Transition
cleanses luck,
translates possibility,
conjures shift to where.

transition close up s

What made me think of Prince?  Another of life’s mysteries…

Inspired by Colleen’s words this week, a shadorma series of fresh beginnings.

 

Quickening

quickening s

Put it together–
give it wings, luminescence–
send it like a star

joining myth to mystery,
the unkempt shadows of night—

Go, fill it with sound,
ringing and dancing around
the core of the tree—

Mend its beginning, the dark
of the seeded centering—

Release it into
exhalations of wonder,
a netted ceiling

filling the cracked branches with
a shared ancestry of light

For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.  It goes nicely with my theme today of branches.

quickening close up s

 

Where are the Birds? (Draw a Bird Day)

branches comp s

awakening, I
see branches growing solid
in the rising light–

the cries of solitary
forms in motion–fleeting, dark

I’ve been drawing the branches outside my window when I wake up.  Above is a grid of 9 of them.  In the early morning light, the birds are like shadows that come and go.

Another poem about branches and birds, Tess Gallagher’s wonderful “Choices”, can be found here.

Happy Draw a Bird Day!

 

 

A retrospect from way back

To say the last month or so has been hectic would be an understatement. My daughter has gotten motivated to clean up the second floor and I’m her assistant. Yesterday we demolished an old couch down to the bone. Oddly satisfying.

Most of this stuff isn’t dated but I’d say around 1968 on most.

1967. Maybe a linoleum print?

So as I have nothing new to post (no art space, stuff stuck in boxes) I thought I’d post some real old stuff.

We watched the Marie Kondo show on decluttering. Very inspiring! The amount of stuff here (books, records, paintings) not to mention clothing which Marie says to take out and pile on the bed. Whatever doesn’t spark joy, you thank and say goodbye to.

It’s different with your own stuff. I guess that’s why I have so much of it.

Best wishes for 2019. I promise to do at least some drawing and hope to be situated with a spot to paint in soon.

On Becoming a Point of Light

point of light s

My poem, “On Becoming a Point of Light”, inspired by Guido Reni’s painting, “Saint Joseph with the Infant Jesus”, is one of ten responses posted at The Ekphrastic Review.  You can read it here. Thanks once again to Lorette C. Luzajic for featuring my work.

point of light close up s

We haven’t quite fitted ourselves into the New Year yet, but Nina and I are going to start posting again after our 2018 break.  I don’t seem to be ready to leave the circles yet, being unsure of what direction I want to go.  I feel like I need to start all over again, and beginnings are always difficult for me.  So there may be some aimless wandering first, or maybe for quite awhile.  As Yogi Berra said wisely, “When you come to a fork in the road, take it.”

Happy New Year!

we look into water, unreflected

we look wht s

the sun barely seen–
grey on grey glowing—we rise,
misting, light-headed–

our feet look for gravity–
unattached, we need mending,

we look close up s

we need anchorage–
a quiet cove, tree walls and
a ceiling of stars–

we look close up 3s

unshadowed, we are remade–
molecules falling apart

into nebulas

 

This is for Sue Vincent’s photo challenge this week, above.  I promised Nina I would try to post something.

we look blk s

Death is a complex space, like the spirits it contains.  May their journeys always be filled with the infinite light of stars.

Wishing everyone the happiest of holidays.  I’ll be back for real in January.

 

 

House across the street

Another house from out my window upstairs. This looks like I’m looking down on it which I was. It wasn’t intentional. I just painted what I saw.