New Work: Every Bit of Blue is Precocious

#2 in my Gertrude Stein quotation series.

9″ x 12″, Watercolor and archival Ink on Paper

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

You can buy the original on my Etsy

Or a print on my Society6

View series on Flickr

Winter Solstice Walk

Brandon drug my 6-month-pregnant-ass out of the house this morning for a nice winter solstice walk — it was such a beautiful day in Door County — light snow falling, warm temps, a little windy but it was refreshing!

the last little green leaf

 

the end of the sunflowers

thought these weeds could use some little hats

here’s an interesting article on the winter solstice

 

see more photos on my Flickr

 

“I speak cold silent words a stone might speak
If it had words or consciousness,
Watching December moonlight on the mountain peak,
Relieved of mortal hungers, the whole mess
Of needs, desires, ambitions, wishes, hopes.
This stillness in me knows the sky’s abyss,
Reflected by blank snow along bare slopes,
If it had words or consciousness,
Would echo what a thinking stone might say
To praise oblivion words can’t possess
As inorganic muteness goes its way.
There’s no serenity without the thought serene,
Owl-flight without spread wings, honed eyes, hooked beak,
Absence without the meaning absence means.
To rescue bleakness from the bleak,
I speak cold silent words a stone might speak.”
-   Robert Pack, Stone Thoughts

More Winter poems and sayings

A Fine Line American Supper

Two print publications came into my life today — Fine Line Magazine and American Supper by D. R. Baker.

Both are jaw-droppingly great.

American Supper is a book of poetry that is really fresh. The author, Deron Baker, happens to be a poet/artist living in Algoma, which makes it that much sweeter for me. He stopped by the gallery today and dropped a few copies off — we have a mixed media piece of his in the current Salon 100 show.

Let’s just say that I was blown away when I started reading his poetry. The copy he gave me smelled slightly of smoke as I turned the pages. Fitting for poetry that has been described as “apocalyptic” and “a quest for the sacred in the everyday world”. I agree with the back cover — the imagination does find refuge here. I was painting pictures in my head the whole time. Sublime.

Another interesting (and more professional) review of American Supper.

Excerpt from Dead Town

I took an evening
stroll through a little
Place called Dead
Town, like
Walking through a tinted photo.
Everyone stood still,
stiffened by fear.
Fraudulent phobia
and pink lemonade.
Everyone here is a
statue,
Preserved for
posterity, calcified,
Marking the exact
moment of their
death.

We are working with Baker right now to set up a poetry reading/book signing at the gallery. It will probably be during the February Algoma Art Wave.

We have a few copies available at the gallery or you can get one online.

NOW, a few words about the new Fine Line Magazine, created by Milwaukee artists/curators Cassandra Smith and Jessica Steeber.

cohesive, succinct, penetrating

It’s refreshing in many ways. No advertising, first of all. Mostly images, with quotes from some of my favorite poets and authors scattered throughout.
New art. Good art.

image credit/more images from the mag

According to their website, Fine Line Magazine aims to encourage the viewer to develop their own understanding of and relationship to the ideas presented.
I say mission accomplished and get your hands on this issue right now.

You can buy the first issue, Welcome Home, here

There is just something about print that I really connect with.
Print will never die.

Hugo Ball Sound Poetry

Thank you Lara–for piquing my interest about Hugo Ball via your comment. I found a great link to his sound poetry. Thanks thanks!! Wolken is my fave, I think. Wish I knew German.

A Poem for Dada by Jack Spicer

A Poem For Dada: Day At The Place April 1, 1958

by Jack Spicer

I

The bartender

Has eyes the color of ripe apricots

Easy to please as a cash register he

Enjoys art and good jokes.

Squish

Goes the painting

Squirt

Goes the poem

He

We

Laugh.

II

It is not easy to remember that other people died

besides Dylan Thomas and Charlie Parker

Died looking for beauty in the world of the

bartender

This person, that person, this person, that person

died looking for beauty

Even the bartender died

III

Dante blew his nose

And his nose came off in his hand

Rimbaud broke his throat

Trying to cough

Dada is not funny

It is a serious assault

On art

Because art

Can be enjoyed by the bartender.

IV

The bartender is not the United States

Or the intellectual

Or the bartender

He is every bastard that does not cry

When he reads this poem.

More about Jack Spicer