Words of a painter about art, painting and other thoughts about life, death and things that get in the way. I began my blog 2010.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Wednesday 27, 2010 Mag 38
Old Stones and Markers
Memories in stone,
Who was it?
Whose name is chiseled here?
Tinker, tailer, cowboy, sailor,
Man, woman or child,
Baker, butcher, candlestick maker,
Mother, Father,
Someone's little daughter,
Someone else's brother,
Soldier,sailor, doctor, lawyer,
One and all come together,
Life is brief, death is long.
Put me in a plain pine box,
Bury me beneath,
The cool dark earth,
Make it green,
Invite the worms,
Feed the earth where I came from,
Whisper my name,
Blow it to the wind,
Sing and dance,
Celebrate my life,
Shed no tears,
I've lived my share,
One day at a time.
No need to write,
My name in stone,
When I leave,
I'll be long gone.
http://magpietales.blogspot.com/
Yes, the prompt made me think of death, and how it is supposed to be a part of life, and yet we never learn, and try our best to run away. Not something we would choose, for ourselves or others. But so it goes, and always has, we need to get over it, on with it, do the best we can with what we have, ....have left. And then chunk it to the wind, and take the next step.
Wednesday October 27, 2010
Yesterday, was the first day back in the studio for a whole day, and today I plan to be here all day again. I am traveling a new path, a new direction, and when I begin a new project I am always excited! So far, so good. My foot is healing, and it really doesn't hurt at all, for that I am very grateful.
As soon as I have accomplished something....I will share it.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Monday 25, 2010 --Sunday Scribbings:#238
Curious
It is the ball,
I want to unravel
I am curious to see
what it is made of?
I find the end of a string
And I pull --
It unravels a little,
I just can't resist
I pull another,
What will I find?
What is the ball made of?
There is no solution,
Except to pull
Another string,
Until it is all unwound,
Completely dismantled,
All is disentangled,
The answer is clearly seen
And now I know.......
The riddle is solved
The answer is before me.
Years ago, I bought three tiny wool, handwoven blankets, they were made by a Navaho family, and now I have somewhere, misplaced the receipt, that had their name on it? I am thinking about those little blankets, because they would unravel a woven wool cloth, and separate the yarn in order to get the thread to weave the new tiny blankets. The tiny finished blankets are amazing.
It is so much like a problem, we set for ourselves and we must unravel the problem, before we can construct the new idea.
(About the image I posted: It has nothing to do with anything, except it is where I am, here in New Mexico. On this morning the sky appeared different. It appeared so heavy, it seemed it would fall. Very different than the sunny days we usually have here.)
Monday 25, 2010 Poetry Potluck - Love and Romance
Friday, October 22, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
I had some corrective surgery. I'm in the process of recouping. I'll be back soon. Thanks.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Monday October 18, 2010 POETRY POTLUCK -- Seven Deadly Sins
Friday, October 15, 2010
Friday October 15, 2010 One Day in the Life...
I finished this work this week. I began it several weeks ago. And I felt it was necessary that I finish it, even though since I started it, a new idea about what I want to do has come into my mind, and I have been very interested in starting this new work. Part of what we do, as artists, is to watch ourselves, see what we do, what we create. It is as if we present an idea to the artist within, and we are anxious to see what we do with it.
This piece will be a part of a series I call, One Day in the Life..., it is the series I was working on before, Poems of the Desert. I worked with this series for several years. I realized that the idea of a man's life, could be told in one moment of one day. The colors I chose for the series came from the quality of the light of the day. And this piece was based on the light of a day in September, 2010, in Northern New Mexico. I had not done one just like this, it is 40"x40" and the grid it is based on is 1/2 inch squares. When all is said and done, it becomes an overall pattern. The composition is based upon a random process, and it cannot be envisioned until it is made visible. The paper is oriental paper, and the paint is gouache.
On Thursday of this week, I was actually able to begin my new series of work. This is a very exciting time for an artist. Something new in the air. Plenty of mystery, we don't know, will it work out, where will it go, once we have released this new idea. Can we accomplish what we can envision? So many unanswered questions, but I know, all that I have done to this point will come into play to reach my goal. I depart on a new adventure.....bon voyage.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Thursday October 14, 2010 Magpie Tales Mag 36/ Ode Magazine
It took me awhile to
Interpret the image.
But now I see,
The door is open,
To a sunny future,
I no longer have to remain
In this darken room.
You are inviting me to go,
Go outside to play,
Perhaps I have remained
Inside, for too long,
I can only imagine,
What will happen if I go
Through that door.
You ask if I am frighten,
Yes...I think I am,
Who know what the
Future holds?
I have futterflies in my stomach,
But I will go.....
I thought it was the door,
But now I think
It is an open window.
This might take a bit of flying...
Writers Island Prompt #24 for 2010: Envision
http://writersisland.wordpress.com/
As an artist,
I am (in)spired,
Which for me means,
Inner-breath.
And an (En)vision
Would be an
Inner-vision.
It is not the material
world we see,
But instead it is
The vision of
the mind's eye.
It is a begining place,
To (in)terpret
(A personal interpretation.)
It is our own,
language of the soul,
Made visible.
I would like to recommend Ode Magazine. Has a wonderful article about reading and about writing. Plus the benefits of keeping a journal.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010 Sunset in the Desert One Shot Poetry Week 15
SOMETIMES POETRY RHYMES
Sometimes poetry rhymes,
Poetry is made of lines,
Some short and some long,
Poetry takes the color from rainbows
Modifies it, and speaks of other things.
Poetry can dash ahead,
Or wait in ambush.
It is not limited to daily life,
But can speak of heart in hand,
In all matter of things.
Like the hills outside of Santa Fe,
In poetry we can see,
How like leopards they are,
Lying about on the desert floor,
Attending to the business of siesta,
Under a bright New Mexico Sun
They speak gurrrr....
The sound is echoed in
Yellows and purples.
Like a special lens,
Poetry helps to to see,
What is hidden
And what is right before us.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Tuesday October 12, 2010 Carry on Tuesday #74
Your prompt for Tuesday October 12, 2010 is John Lennon's first line, "Close your eyes, have no fear...First I am reminded by "Carry on Tuesday, of "carry on luggage." That seems right, we are all dealing with our own baggage. I can get it, from here.
It seems like an invitation to imagine, or perhaps to remember.
This is the First Day
I shall open the baggage
That I carry,
I will sort through,
And discard all the broken
Pieces of my life.
And at the end of the day,
I shall close my eyes, and
Have no fear...
You are with me still.
This day is truly the
First day of the rest of
My life. And I will
Make it count.
I run to the future.
My bags are packed
I'm ready to go,
Lighter than they were,
I can get it from here.
You are with me still.
I have no fear!
It seems like an invitation to imagine, or perhaps to remember.
This is the First Day
I shall open the baggage
That I carry,
I will sort through,
And discard all the broken
Pieces of my life.
And at the end of the day,
I shall close my eyes, and
Have no fear...
You are with me still.
This day is truly the
First day of the rest of
My life. And I will
Make it count.
I run to the future.
My bags are packed
I'm ready to go,
Lighter than they were,
I can get it from here.
You are with me still.
I have no fear!
Monday, October 11, 2010
Monday October 11, 2010 Potluck Poetry -- Beaches and Mountains
Beaches and Mountains
I didn't know how
To love your beaches,
They were lonely and flat,
You couldn't love my mountains,
You said, they oppressed.
But I loved you,
Smell of cedar,
And you loved
My loneliness.
At the beach
You were my mountain,
My touchstone,
You left with a wave,
And now I'm alone
In the mountains.
I left a note in the bottle,
So you would know,
"Look for me
In the Mountains."
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Sunday October 10, 2010 The Finish Line
This has been a very difficult week. It is the height of the season for the sagebrush and for allergies. It is like a symphony, and the climax of the piece reaches a great crescendo. Or for me, I have no energy, and can't think, it is as though I am underwater. I await the first snowfall.
A few weeks ago I started a project, based on, "what if?" Trying something just a little different and like most projects executed by artists, it is 5% inspiration and 95% inspiration. We love to have a new idea, something different. We are all excited to try it and can't wait to begin. After a while we get caught in the "trap," a great beginning, but really hard work. There is nothing exciting about that.
But it is the discipline of the "finish," that is important. I found this quote last week on Gerdiary's blog. "Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out --Vaclar Havel. And it seems so true, especially in regards to the efforts of the artist.
We have an idea and it is not about how it will be when finished, but that it makes sense. It is like the end of the day, to finish a project. I always hope I can look back, and say, I've worked hard, I've done a good job, and it's been a good day.
I SAW SUNDAY OCTOBER 10, 2010
This week has been difficult, because of my allergies. It is all consuming. But last night's sunset was so wonderful! As with all sunsets, always different, reminding me that we are always experiencing life a new, it's never been exactly this way before.
One morning this week, I came to the studio before daybreak. I looked up, and was surprised to see the sky full of clouds, just a light glow in the clouds from the obscured sunrise. And then, it rained, which it doesn't often do here in the high mountain desert. What a blessing.
http://oneshotpoetry.blogspot.com/p/one-shoot-sunday.html
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Friday September 30, 2010 Magpie Tale 35 I am October
I am October
I am October...
Excuse me...
Could you pass me a tissue?
Yes, I see your new dress,
Reds, yellows, oranges,
Literally on fire!
But it is you,
You lowly sagebrush,
Master of the bare plains,
You grow in abundance,
Tiny forest,
You are the one that holds us together,
Won't allow all to blow away,
Perhaps it is for lack of respect,
You take your revenge,
Like your cousin Ragweed,
You cast your pollen far and wide.
I sneeze, drip and tear,
Another tissue please?
I look at you in October,
I will not forget.
You have your place,
You do your job,
One that only you can do,
You grow where others cannot.
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