Sunday, August 01, 2010

... digital day dreaming

During my recent period of enforced idelness, I've spent a bit of time going through my computer files and paintings.  I rediscovered a few pieces I'd forgotten about.

"OM" acrylic/canvas
"Om" came through in a bout of anger and frustration, yet, is now a focal point of relaxation and calm.

"Ornithology" acrylic/canvas
I labored over the piece, "Ornithology," for months in early 2006. I am fascinated with the process of glazing to achieve shading and depth, and how a painting is revealed with each thin, nearly transparent layer.

"Blue Mandala" acrylic/canvas
Circles and circular movement are recurring themes in my work. "Mandala" loosely translated from Sanskrit means "circle" and in some spiritual thought, represents the center and beginning of all creation.

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Notes on painting and art

...on process and painting "Touch Wood":

This will always be an action painting to me.  Not in the art history sense, but in the sense of something alive, something that evolved into its current state.

I worked on this piece intermittently for an entire day-- this little 8x10 that was supposed to be an easy  exercise. I watched it grow and change as the day advanced; at one point, it seemed near completion.  The colors were beautiful, all soft-focus and placid-- a very different work.

Then, with one stroke, I destroyed that feeling. I panicked and almost threw the painting in the trash.

But, this tree would not allow me to do so. I had to keep going, to find a new answer. I had to give up my own plans and let the piece dictate each brush stroke.

Despite my flawed technique, this work now speaks to a deep place within me.

Concerning the Spiritual in Art

Friday, July 30, 2010

Touch Wood

Touch wood:

I seek safety -- to be whole, and to heal

Slowly my haven emerges
bright & strong
for one moment of perfect clarity
clouds waft in,
staining my inner landscape with fear and doubt

the tree stands
but the horizon grows dark & heavy

the air
a humid blanket of damp foliage
sits atop a still lake reflecting dull silver

one slow breath

the tree stands

i hold on

Sunday, July 18, 2010


I feel the echo of you, once solid
We move in different dimensions,
circling new priorities

You have joined the ghosts of my past.
I have retreated into a sepia-toned shadow on your hard drive.

Who are we now to each other?

Necessary Losses: The Loves, Illusions, Dependencies, and Impossible Expectations That All of Us Have to Give Up in Order to Grow

Saturday, February 13, 2010


My computer screen hums.
I scan the electric landscape, and out of the corner of my eye I catch a thread,
a shadow of the ghost of my father.
He is shrouded behind the curtain of my mother's heartbreak.
He is there but not there--a name I carry in my heart but elusive.

My father's family--silent, invisible--have never known me nor I them.
Whether by intention or ignorance, it's the same effect:
we are strangers sharing bits of genetic code and DNA.

I try, but have not broken my mother's injunction of secrecy,
frightened by unnamed dark things buried under rocky silence decades old.
I try, but have not escaped the necessary lies she hides behind.
What monstrous truth could still be sharp enough,
still reach deeply enough through the years to shred our current peace?
Can her past really hurt me now?

Inspiring Creativity: An Anthology of Powerful Insights and Practical Ideas to Guide You to Successful Creating


eldest daughter and wife of war
sing to me
blind me with lust
fire my spirit

golden throated goddess
whisper to me
free my voice
and open my heart

Monday, January 11, 2010

Over The Top

Over, under, through
The setting sun chases violet clouds across the twilight sky
Spreading out a blanket of stars
As the Earth prepares for sleep with a sigh

Over, under, through
We roll along canyons of concrete
Encased in our metal and glass carapaces...
Seeking comfort and warmth as darkness blankets the landscape

Sleepwalking and blind,
Oblivious to the hum of night,
We eat
We drink
We sit in digital dreams,
Overcome and under a spell of our own making, through the nocturnal mist.