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on the possibility of seeing a painted bunting (draw a bird day)

painted bunting s

caught like a
shadow just beyond
the watching
eye, barely
imprinted on the synapse
of remembering

it flies on
the winds of held breath–
covering the
air with blurs
of moving feathers, colors
surrounded by song

My NaPoWriMo poem today has nothing to do with the prompt, and everything to do with it being the 8th of April, which is National Draw-a-Bird-Day.  I have never actually seen a painted bunting, but I have painted this bird before, in 2015, when one was spotted in Brooklyn.  This version was done with a new set of watercolor pencils I received for my birthday earlier this year.

napo2019button2

 

Weekend Sketching 3/25/19

I love sketching the old Paterson buildings. This was a black and white photo which I took the artistic license of coloring. A lot of the old buildings were constructed in brownstone and I imagine this one was too. I gave it some stained glass windows.

Spring is arriving but slowly. Yesterday I went over to take care of my neighbor’s chickens only to find they had “flown the coop”. I can’t figure out how as the fence was up and all doors locked. But the girls cooperated and I got them back in (as a large hawk was circling). They also laid a few eggs in the yard making same eggs certifiably free range. Love those chickens!

Sketch

A sketch from a Facebook photo my cousin posted of him and his family.

I intend to paint it in but can’t find my brushes. Things are a bit disorganized here but maybe some progress.

I better not post the photo without my cousin’s permission.

Blood From a Stone

blood from a stone_still my shivering s

My words repeat. Nothing. Your ears are closed like frozen air. You always move away, shrinking me, disappearing me into invisibility.

My words repeat. I am naming flowers. I am calling the names of birds. They remain unretrieved, hesitating on the edges of sound.

My fences are broken. My guard is falling deeper and deeper into the ground. My map shows no return.

Whispering, I stand
trembling with the elements,
my cells unmoored.

The currents swim without me,
expanding the gulf between.

blood from a stone close up

Jilly at dVerse asked for an unconventional haibun this week.  That was easy–all my writing seems somewhat alien to me right now (or maybe my poetry is just always strange and I’m only now noticing it….)

The drawings are from photos of ancient Roman sculptures that have been broken by time. Amazing how much depth and emotion hidden inside the stone was revealed by those artists.

 

Buddy breathing

I was discussing swimming pools and memories with our friend Claudia McGill and remembered when my Dad used to sit at the bottom of the pool with his scuba tank. All the kids would dive down and he’d hand them the breathing thing; we would hang out down there and take turns buddy breathing. I hadn’t thought of this in a long time. This is just a prelimary sketch and I’m going to paint it.  Claudia said early memories are the strongest. I’m going to have to think of more memories that I can translate into visual ones.  Maybe a series?

Cement blocks

They’re doing construction in my neighborhood. There are piles of Belgian blocks for the curbs, wood and other building materials. The pattern of these stacked concrete blocks appealed to me so I did a drawing. I must admit I’m rather pleased with it. 


This is the photo. I did the drawing at work and didn’t have the right colored pencils to catch the color nuance but I think I caught the pattern. Have a great weekend!

My Dad and Emily

Em must have been around nine here. It’s a sketch from a photo of them sitting at the table in France. She wasn’t drinking wine. She just liked to drink out of a wine glass like we all were. 

A Strange but Nice Dream

I dreamed the neighborhood kids put all sorts of fairy structures around my house. They were dug into the ground in my dream. I really like the kids in my neighborhood and could actually imagine them doing this!

To my husband

I’ve been absent from this blog because my husband had a stroke on Saturday, August 20th, 2016. Luckily I got him to the hospital quickly where they administered TpA, a clot busting medicine. He was paralyzed on the right side and mute. Scary as shit, people. But within ten minutes he started to recover. 

I am thankful that he is gradually coming back to himself and also thankful that they have this medicine which didn’t exist years ago. 

I was kind of drunk when I did this sketch. 

Williamsburg Bridge (detail)

My obsession with this bridge intensifies when I’m visiting Brooklyn and standing in its shadow. I don’t know why I love this bridge so much. It is just so bold and you can see it so clearly from my daughter’s neighborhood. I took a few more photos of it and did another work drawing. In pencil it didn’t have the boldness; I brought in a bottle of ink and a couple of brushes. 

Here is the original pencil drawing before I messed with it and also the photo. I just love this bridge! I promise I will move on to another subject soon!