In case of loss....

I am for the first time pretty actively throwing things out.  This is partially because I am stressed about moving and for the first time having all this stuff is burdensome.  However, I think it is also that I am ready to let go.  I like objects and material and normally like to save them and hold them as something precious.  

While throwing out an unthoughtful gift I couldn't help but watch the light cascade over its surface and find some beauty in an unappealing and unwanted object.  

MoistArt

Check out MoistArt....I'm on the front page!

Night Writing

Of course poetry enters my mind while trying to fall asleep...decided against turning on the light......

The End of an Era

I am moving.  Fixing up the studio.  

8.5.11

8.5.11

The longing of Spring has sunk away

Now

I dream of Winter’s sweet, quiet solace

The cycle, though known, seems unjust

In its movements

As if it could stagnate

And I expected nothing

But I need her changing expressions

To make sense of my body

To compare my mind with Nature

What a joyous difficulty we have

To keep growing without question

To reflect the changing leaves

Like lakes and ponds and seas

To remain

Rising, reaching

Shaping like a tree

Poem 8.7.11

8.7.11

One,

You remind me

Not all verses

Are so dark.

Some lie gently

On the red tips

Of your sun-kissed

Black hair. 

Not all spirit

Is indistinguishable.

Beauty can be bold.

Trust can be new.
Anger can be quiet.

Love can be proud.

Creation exhibits joy

Coming forth from

The shadows.

Another figure in this world.

Another actor.

A battle

Won.  

COD

I went to Cape Cod.....

The beach set-up

Some inside joke drawn inside

Oil

Oil

Oil

Oil

Mixed media

Mixed Media

Nude

This post has been a long time coming.  I made this painting in a few days in late May/early June for the Cavity.Lab Tinbergen's 4 Questions show.  Props to my virgin model for being so inspiring and cooperative!

Some July Poetry

7.11.11

Breath

The ultimate drug

Each desperate inhale

Is relieved by an exhale

Length and lethargy

Steep each sigh stronger

Coloring its agony and ecstasy

Cracking between bones

Lifting up layers

Waves of emotion

Crash down memories

Building sandcastles with Dad

Washing over

Sleeping

7.31.11

There are nights

When the sky looks round

And we seem to know it.

We recognize its shape

And see the shell of our globe

Enclosing us.

Tomorrow, last year

Is so far.

A full revolution’s passed.

All has changed.

We’ve lost our King to another.

We’ve died and been born again.

The lagging, sober winter months

Are forgotten in the shadows

Of Summer’s hurried indolence.

The heat drains our chest

So we can love again.

Humidity fills our lungs

So we can laugh again.

We rejoice that tomorrow is not

The same day it was last year.

We respect all that has since been

For bringing us here.

We expect anything between

Nothing and everything.

Only then there may be sweet nectar 

Flowing from our tree.

There may be enough harvested

To bear the cold, coming months.

That will be enough.