Saturday, February 26, 2011

Saturday February 26, 2011/Writer's Island/ A Small Stone/The Poetry Bus



http://writersisland.wordpress.com/

Writer's Island Prompt #9 for 2011 Improvise

Soul Journey
As an artist
To improvise
Is what I do

Can I say how it is done
Probably not
Starts with an idea
We have don't know
How to do it
We don't even know
What we want
But we try
We try to discover
It is trial and error
It is "what if"

We seek patterns
Related to every
Kind of creativity
We look for clues on how
To be self creating
Self-organizing
Authentic

All art is improvisation
Some we present
Whole and at once
Some we present
Rrevised and restructured
We seek our own way

It begins with an idea
And we stumble
Through the journey
The finished piece you
See or hear
Is but a relic or trace of the
Journey that has
Come and gone

All art is performance
Even when you are the
Only one in the studio
For all is revealed in
The finished product
It is a record of the
Process of improvisation

The process comes
From the deepest
Part of ourselves
It is a spiritual path
It is about us
About the deep self
It is a soul journey

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________




Looking east and south, towards Truches Peak, New Mexico, land of enchantment.

A Small Stone
Winter morning colors
Ignite the heart
Van Gogh

Photos do not do justice
Awash in glorious pinks
Not to be missed
There are no words
To "tell" this magic
You will have to
Wake early, too

It is free
You can not spend it
You do not have
To work for it
Just open your eyes
Look and you will see
A treasure that
Fills the heart
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________



http://totalfeckineejit.blogspot.com/

Poetry Bus Prompt: the above photo

The Old Photo
It was the photo I had been looking for
Mother's birthday 1914
The family was all coming to the party
It had been some time
Since we had all gotten together

But no....that could not be
All four of the children
Had been washed away in the
1900 Galveston storm

Mother took to her bed,
Never got up,
Never went out
Grieved those kids
All the rest of her life.

18 comments:

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Those photos of the morning sky are absolutely spectacular...........love the poem, and its message: so much beauty when we open our eyes! You live in a magical spot. The "energy" must be great too!

Strong poem with a sad story for the other photo as well. Touches the heart. Great writing this morning, Annell, as always.

Elizabeth said...

I can only echo Sherry about the photos, your stone and your poem. I can easily see why your heart finds creative energy in a place that displays such colors. Keep it up, my friend,

Elizabeth

Totalfeckineejit said...

That's a great poem,Annell. Powerful, poignant, sad,all poems are some kind of truth, but I hope it's not true.
'1900 Galveston storm' that hits me, I can't explain why,(beyond the obvious) but it does. Thank you for getting aboard the bus.

SandyCarlson said...

Your poem is a sweet and beautiful good morning. Thank you so much, my friend.

Marilyn & Jeff said...

Your first photo and poem are lovely. I love sunsets, love being up and outside to see the day start, but I have never seen colours quite like your's.
The other photo is a lovely family shot but your words broke my heart. Very well written.

The Unknowngnome said...

Yes, one cannot describe in words or capture totally in picture the beauty of the free gift we are given, but you come very close!

Peter Goulding said...

Such an unexpected twist in the second poem. It really hits hard - the image of what might have been.

Louise said...

Sad story,, well written, you certainly acheived the story behind the image, making it all the more poignant.

Evalinn said...

I love the scenery!

Mariya Koleva said...

They are lovely! I enjoyed the poetry very much!

... Paige said...

beautiful sunrise, beautiful state of serene

a sad tale of Galveston well written

Laura said...

While it is true Annell, a photo is not the same as the glory of a sacred moment...somehow, it can transport us to a sacred moment of our own, perhaps remembered, perhaps the one we are dwelling in right now.

Brian Miller said...

gorgeous skies...we hike the mountain this morning in the dark under the stars...2 miles...up 3900 feet...and me tthe sun when i t popped up and shared coffee with it...love nature...

Jinksy said...

I hope the picture-story was imagination, not fact... :)

Helen said...

What a treat today! I have a new slide/photo scanner .. I've been sorting through photos for what seems like years! I do have a few from the late 1800s - early 1900s. They are pure magic. I wish someone had thought to write names and dates on the backs. Mysteries.

Wayne Pitchko said...

nicely done Annel...thanks for sharing it all

Unknown said...

Your piece on the artist's life is spot on.

And here’s mine, better late than never, for the Writer’s island prompt:

http://www.kimnelsonwrites.com/2011/02/28/ize-are-on-you/

Tess Kincaid said...

What a lovely studio you have, Annell! Love seeing you at work here.

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