I consulted the Magnetic Oracle for a haiku to go with my May grid.
moon blossoms between
rain root and seed song—bird boughs
blanket the wild wind
I got lost in another dream. I was on the edge, searching for a map. I fell onto the blue river of time. The flowers growing together inside the stars cast me home with song, just like you do.
I started with “dear friend”, and the Oracle sent me a lovely message for Nina. This blog, and my art and writing, would not be here without her encouragement and support. Thank you my friend!
For NaPoWriMo Day 28. Almost there…
Collage inspired by Joan Mitchell’s painting “Ici”.
Joan Mitchell painted sunflowers, over and over, which always makes me think of Van Gogh (as she did, too, although her colors are softer, her strokes open and layered lightly)—the intense yellows and burning oranges, the ground a mysterious combination of blue and green. My father’s Aunt Lil often talked about that undefinable intermixture of hues, which also glowed behind her favorite painting of almond blossoms.
Aunt Lil taught my brothers and me to play poker, ignoring my mother’s silent Protestant disapproval. She was a champion bridge player, a potter (I still have a vase), a judge’s secretary, a woman who became far larger that the life that had been mapped out for her in the early 20th century. She was the daughter who lived at home and took care of her mother until her mother died. They watched the Saturday Night Fights every weekend on TV.
She called my father Chickie, and came to Sunday dinner often when we lived in Baltimore.
They say her fiancée died before they could marry.
Your laugh infectious,
opening like a flower–
I smile in return.
I’m not sure this answers the Day 10 NaPoWriMo prompt for multiple things happening at the same time…but certainly the mind rambles and holds many images and thoughts at the same time, even if we can only write it out in sequence afterwards.
sky holding deep dreams, rampant
with riotous light
Another Monet-inspired grid. Happy June!
My mother loved roses. The Oracle caught my mood.
magic flower laughs
opens remembering heals
like stars aborning
sacred spirit shines
between memory and rose
flowering the soul
My first attempt at using the Neocolor II set given to me by Kerfe 27 years ago. A very fun and forgiving medium which you can smoosh with water. I tried to give this a layered effect by adding watercolor, pencil and fine tip marker.
Nina and I consulted with the Magnetic Poetry Oracle way back in February for this one. I’ve been working on this illustration for a long time, but my stitching is always slow.
Cover cold wind
follow bright stones
breathe wild blooms
of secret sanctuary
the beautiful song
Nina has a completely different interpretation for our collaborative verse which she will be posting today as well.
iPad drawing app. Just a little vase of flowers. It’s my anniversary today: 36 years married. (Kerfe was at my wedding).
Drawing constellations in skies of dream,
landscaped as colors growing wild, extreme,
pulsing surrounding vibrations unseen,
in star-gathered moonlight, whispering beam
unconscious, unlimited, in between
Continuing my recent star theme…I actually did this awhile ago, but I’ve been tweaking the poem on and off. This is for Jane Dougherty’s last poetry challenge posted back in the end of September. The poetic form was her own invention: a single stanza of five lines of ten syllables each, and the five end of line words all rhyme. Here’s the artwork she provided:
I miss Jane’s prompts.
“Where flowers bloom, so does hope.”
–Lady Bird Johnson
“If you could
have three wishes, what?”
I’ve been repeating that word
since I was a child.
What is peace?
Easy to say what
it is not–
not guns, not
bombs, not hate or violence.
Not this destruction.
There are seeds
but they need sunlight–
growth, to send roots; open space
to reach for the sky.
This is not
we let it–
the Earth can teach us if we
can’t find our way home.
Despite the way we mistreat it, the Earth still shares with us its bounty. As it does each summer, the Rose of Sharon tree is blooming, surrounded by concrete and the sorrows of our world.
Join in with your poem here.