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My Dad

My Dad was a happy guy. Even in this picture taken shortly before his death, he never complained. He lost his wife, his house, his driver’s license and his mind but he was never angry (at least that he showed). Father’s Day used to include a big party up at Camp Veritans–my Dad ran the games. He was always a fun dad and was very encouraging of my art and music. I miss him. 

Happy Father’s Day to all the Dads and to the moms who did double duty. 

Honoring my father today

My father Joseph Zimel was part of the greatest generation. He was older when he enlisted in the Army; his fellow soldiers called him Gramps. The Army recognized his intelligence (he had to drop out of high school due to the Great Depression) and they sent him to Officers Candidate School where he attained the rank of Captain. Unlike some men he spoke about his experiences in World War Two until his dying day. I have kept his uniform despite my deceased sister wanting to donate it to the Smithsonian. I also have his medals, a shred of a Japanese flag, some snapshots of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and other mementos. I am very proud of his bravery and I salute him and all the other veterans and men and women on active duty. 

On the other hand I wish all war would cease and that we could live in peace. 

May 2017 – Issue 30

Pleased to have my art paired with the poetry of Devon Balwit in this issue of “the light ekphrastic”. Devon found a whole new world in my collage.

the light ekphrastic

We are pleased to share the work of the following artists and writers in the 30th issue of The Light Ekphrastic:

Devon Balwit – Blessing; magic (poetry)

Edward Doyle-GillespieWrecker’s Cove; Socorro Prophesy (poetry)

Robbi NesterThe Lives of a River; War Rug (poetry)

Cara OberMeshuggeneh, This Train Don’t Stop (artwork)

Kerfe Roig – Blessing; magic (artwork)

Magan Ruthke Wisdom in the Missouri; Hand-Woven in Afghanistan (artwork)

Crystal SnoddonLay Full and Sleeping; Garage Diagnosis (poetry)

Simon J. Ward The Memory; An Atmospheric Railway (poetry)

Mychael ZulaufFrail Forms; he returns with fire (music)

LuAnn ZubakLost; Untitled (artwork)

Contributor Bios





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M.E. at the Iris Gardens

The Presby Iris Gardens are a big deal here in Montclair. My friend Mary has set up Mary’s Happy Camper selling coffee and snacks there. I drew this off a selfie she posted on Facebook.

Here are some scenes from the “Rainbow on the Hill”:

Drawing from television

I was watching “Better Call Saul”, a tv show which is a prequel to the great “Breaking Bad”. This frame was of Jimmy McGill in a diner talking to his strongman Mike. The New Mexico sky, their postures and the geometric shapes in the background made me ask my husband to freeze the frame. Here is the shot:

Have a great weekend, lovely WordPress people!

The Lady in the Mirror

That face in the mirror
Who is that old lady?
Not too many wrinkles but tired,
Worn out, bad hair, no makeup.

That’s me
looking back at myself.
I barely recognize myself
but it’s me. Vestiges of my mother
and I can see my sister in me too.
They were young once, now they’re gone.

I’m still here,
Invisible as older ladies are
But inside I am young, vibrant, alive.

I was sitting at a planning board meeting in my town last night. The building where my husband has his medical practice is under contract with a large group and the application for a variance was being discussed; I went because I’m nosy and I wanted to find out what was happening with it. There was a ten minute break and I went into the ladies room. Either the light was terrible in there or I looked really, really bad. It was probably the latter. I barely recognized myself. Scary! but funny too.


Birthday Poem

I was born on this day
pushed out by my mother
welcomed by my father, my grandfather
and all the ancestors before them.

Here I am,
68 years later,
no one left but me.
A loving family, problematic though,
two dogs, a messy house, a life well lived.

Who am I but a body in time,
a woman, an artist, a mother, a worker,
grateful to be here on this mortal coil.

And tonight I’m going to have soft-shelled crabs
for dinner!

Nina Wilson

What Was Lost, poem by Kerfe Roig (LOST AND FOUND Poetry and Prose Series)

Pleased to be a part of another great Silver Birch series–

Silver Birch Press

RoigWhat Was Lost
by Kerfe Roig

A taxi,
a wallet:
what was really lost?
No comfort
in this return. Forever
unfillable. Gone.

IMAGE:  Collage by Kerfe Roig.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: When I got into the back seat of a taxi several years ago, there was a wallet on the floor. I located the owner through the phone number of a friend that was inside. It was a somber face that met me when I went to her apartment building to return the lost property: she had been taking her dog to the vet for the last time.

Roig_portraitABOUT THE AUTHOR: Kerfe Roig enjoys transforming words and images into something new. You can follow her explorations on the blog she does with her friend Nina: 

Self-portrait by Kerfe Roig. 

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taking a break

We have some life to attend to.  But we’ll return in a few weeks.  Enjoy spring! (it’s officially returning this week).

N. and K.

Half a Haibun 5

I was delighted to be asked by Mek at 10000hoursleft to participate in her collaborative “Half a Haibun” series. She gamely agreed to me taking liberties with the form as well.

Her response is a wonderful combination of ideas and images that gives me new insight into my own words and art.

This is #5 in the series…be sure to click on the links to #1-4.

Thanks Mek! (and next time Nina has promised to join us)

Work in Progress

half a haibun 5 on the verge collaboration haibun with Kerfe RoigWe send shadows through the air.

We look to the sky for the whispers of birds.

Are we on the verge of remembering feathers?

a flight of fancy

serendipity’s green light

d n a in dance

fibonacci hearts beat one…

one, two- counting yellow bricks

Collage from junk mail and poetic prose by Kerfe RoigOn the Verge. Junk mail art by Kerfe Roig

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