It was a nice fall weekend here and I did some art work: a couple of paintings and another batch of rocks.
You can’t really tell but I painted these rocks a dark gray, not black. They need one more coat of matte fixative and then they’ll be ready to give away. I keep some in my drawer at work to give out. People are surprised when I hand them one.
Hope it’s a good week for everyone. Nina
I’ve been doing these drawings starting with a swoop of a few blobs of paint with a large paintbrush.
My daughter doesn’t really pay much attention to my artwork. She looked at this one and said “this is our family”. Me, husband, daughter and daughter’s dog…I did not do this intentionally.
Where did this come from? The figures: a Keith Haring rip-off. The swoop I’ve been doing I copied from a TikTok artist (it is a lot of fun to do). But the content came purely from my unconscious mind. I’m sure of it.
There is so much terrifying stuff going on-not to me personally, but in the world, and everyone is affected. A generation of kids-especially the really young ones-are missing out on the beauty of going to school. Fires raging in our country and on the island of Lesbos, displacing thousands of people. I am pretty old but I wonder: will it be okay?
Gouache on black paper. The paper doesn’t take the paint that well but I don’t care, I’m just messing around.
I also had to make a new batch of rocks. I put a bunch out in the neighborhood and gave away some of my special ones. I reverted back to the black and multicolor wonky mandala designs which I find very relaxing.
Have a good week!
I spend some hours this weekend sitting and painting some rocks that I’ll put around later when they’re finished. I did some painting too, gouache on black paper and then cut out and pasted on another piece of black paper.
I’ve put out a lot of my rocks. I sort of wish I had counted but I’m not that organized. All I know is people seem to like them (I always keep a few at work which I know goes against Covid as I’ve given a few out there). I’ve kept some rocks that I couldn’t part with:
Kerfe and I wish the WordPress community the best as we head into fall.
Can you hear it? Earth’s
heartbeat chants in rhythm with
the drumming of birds.
I’ve been meaning to draw a woodpecker for awhile. I painted this without a sketch, so the proportions are a little off, but I think it captures the essence–the colors and the crest and long beak. I also put white on white lines for trees in the background. Pileated Woodpeckers prefer to live in old growth forests, nesting in dead trees, and their numbers declined as forests were cleared in the 19th century. But their numbers seem to be increasing again, as they adapt to new environments.
At my last residence I would see and hear red-headed woodpeckers. I haven’t seen any here, but on many weekends the African drummers are in residence at the historic mansion around the corner. Both man and bird connecting to earth’s rhythms.
Once again, Draw a Bird Day, the 8th of each month, is serving as a placeholder here at MeMadTwo while Nina takes an extended break. Come back soon Nina, and bring some birds!
In the meantime, you can find me (Kerfe) at https://kblog.blog/.
Every beach vacation comes with its own bird. One year it was mockingbirds, one year a very vocal cardinal. One year, crows.
This year we were accompanied by grackles. They would sit on the railing of the beach house speaking in their rusty tongue, lined up like soldiers. If one turned, all turned. Once they saw someone was paying attention they would vocalize a bit more and suddenly disappear.
On the beach they appeared ahead of my walking path and waited for me, foraging in the waves. As soon as I caught up, they flew off ahead again.
Although it’s natural to see their iridescent strutting as a variation on crows, grackles are actually part of the lark family, related also to blackbirds and orioles.
But they do have a connection to crows—all back birds are said to know magic, to live on the borders of the possible unknown.
standing on the edge
between water and shoreline,
you pause, watch me watching you–
our eyes meet through layered light
For Colleen’s #TankaTuesday, poet’s choice of words, a haibun.
Draw-a-Bird Day is placeholding here at method two madness each month until Nina returns. You can find me at https://kblog.blog/ in the meantime.
I’ve also linked to dVerse Open Link night.
you woke me not with
singing, but with squawks—crowlike,
insistent and loud—
a flash of blue amid oak leaves,
glittering with morning sun
I read online that bands of blue jays making a racket are often harassing a predator–must have been a hawk about the other morning.
I will continue to do draw-a-bird day here, but I’ve been posting at kblog while Nina is taking an extended break. Once she returns, I’ll be back at MeMadTwo regularly again. In the meantime, visit me at my other site!
it’s the alone in
the dance that makes the never
knowing so complete
Amaya at dVerse asked us to consider music that brings us to tears. There are many candidates these days, but I chose Jackson Browne’s “For a Dancer” for it’s longevity and continued relevance in that department. People, places, things…they are always “dancing in and out of view”.
And a ghazal for the song as well.
In the quiet of a summer’s afternoon I think of you
in the absence that is always in this room I think of you
My mind plays tricks and mixes up the present and the past
in memories recalled and then exhumed I think of you
Bananas peaches lemons oranges strawberries and limes
in fruit that ripens and releases its perfume I think of you
I search for guidance in the symbols of mythologies and stars
in portents that appear like ghostly runes I think of you
The fiber spun and dyed the needle waiting in my hand
in threads that cross like patterns on a loom I think of you
Sometimes I seem to recognize a voice calling and turn
in the abbreviation of my nom de plume I think of you
Pay attention to the open skies.
journey like a river,
found in the places
that are always home
sing the music of oceans
weaving patterns of mercy–
journey like a river
become part of each movement,
every path transformed,
found in all places
pass along what has been given–
ride the sky like the wind,
always at home
Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, immediately made me think of Paul Simon’s “Peace Like a River”–and that made me think of “American Tune”–hence the 2 part title. The poem is a cascade, always a good form when writing about water.
Sue titled her photo “Yearning” and I think that’s an emotion Paul Simon captures well.
…and I dreamed I was flying…