Defined by what it is not–
every particle of light
A journey neither up nor down,
neither here nor there–
defined by what it is not.
Centered in the outer reaches,
jeweled and huge–
every particle of light.
Remaining as day becomes night,
as seasons fall apart and rearrange themselves–
For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above. The poem is a cascade, a similar form to the pantoum which I have been using so much lately.
Kerfe always likes my landscapes so this is one for her today.
I really need art supplies badly. I’m out of quite a few colors but more importantly I need the super heavy watercolor paper. The direction I’m going in seems to call for a lot of layering.
Birdy six days after his brother’s demise. I really can’t tell if he’s sad. He’s usually happy when I’m around. And so it goes.
Another one where the drips led me. It’s hard to see the details i.e. going in with a fine point sharpie in places.
In other news, I lost my dog Beau on the last day of August. The IG post is from Chris, whose hikes Beau went on with great joy for many years. Beau was just shy of his tenth birthday. I still have his brother, Birdy, who seems kind of stunned.
So I guess fall is here. Best wishes to all for the new season.
I let the drips take me where they wanted. Two green and friendly monsters emerged.
A simplified view and I ran out of room- the paper wasn’t big enough. Or I painted it wrong. The church steeple is not in this one and I think I miss it.
Last week of summer has arrived. It’s a nostalgic time, seeing the kids go back to school and the leaves falling. Time marches on.
Another abstract just playing with color and shape. It’s fun to do these, layering drips and color while shapes reveal themselves to me.
A couple of closeups. There’s some good painting in here if I do say so myself.
I’ve been painting in my husband’s messy office upstairs, at a repurposed computer desk. It’s not ideal but it’s as good a place as any. Plus I’m messing up the desk and floor with paint so maybe I can eventually take it over as a studio.
Were I Other. Were I spoken in a different voice. Were I fallen into impossibility.
I would be like stars.
I would echo the feeling
that follows the wind.
Were I made of light. Were I pulsing like oceans. Were I to open as wide as never and nothing.
I would radiate
rainbows. I would paint moments
with sound. Fill absence.
For Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, with synonyms for love and time. I’m not entirely sure this qualifies as a haibun. In the spirit of, anyway.
The embroidered watercolor is a work in progress. I plan to keep embroidering it until I stop.
A rainy Saturday in northern NJ. Hope everyone is having a good weekend.
“when the leaves turn inside out you know it’s going to rain”. That’s what my sister used to say and she was right.