My back to sort-of-normalcy in the new year begins today–a week into January already. The temperature outdoors is moderating–a balmy 20 degrees and rising after a long and gripping windchill in the minus column. Last week also featured a “bomb cyclone” that galloped through like cowboys on wild ponies and a whirlwind of weekend birthday celebrations. I’m actually looking forward to vacuuming, making soup and painting–routines and chores a little lost in all the commotion of the past couple of weeks. It will be just fine to settle into Winter’s subdued pace and beauty and back to sustained creative practice.
spicy-colored gift paper collages into a new palette
© ag ~ 2018
February 28th — last day of the shortest month. Always an analomy — the ending a little too soon. What to write? Why write? Who reads this stuff anyway?
I do. The more I write — the more I flow. Making the commitment and taking up self-imposed challenges helps. And this is the first year that I am able to juggle my poetic and visual art output in tandem. Yay! Before this, it was one or the other. Also before this, I was not as seriously tuned into the work involved in growing my artistry. I have made a serious commitment to explore, express and enjoy the artist’s journey — the whole journey including the failures as well as the successes. After all is said and done, it is the failures that lead to real growth and riches.
With that in mind, I am including here in my last formal #NaHaiWriMo post for 2017, some of my failed haiku. Failed for one reason or another of no great consequence — mostly that they did not take me where I needed to go at the time. I hope to continue my poetry writing posts, however probably somewhat more randomly after this. I do believe that sustained poetry writing infuses my visual art, and my visual art helps poet my words. The painting here is also a work in progress started on top of a failed canvas and may or may not make it into the canons of my saved artwork. To be continued.
clouds on my way to the moon the sea’s lullaby
the jazz solo
just a little off
high wind and hail last night in and out of strange dreams
now we paint our nails
wild women birthing stars
for lost gardens.
Lightning bugs are out and about! This is a reblog in honor of the solstice, full moon and lightning bugs/fireflies that keep the sun’s light pulsing throughout the short but dark nights.
returns the call
red roses issue
a plea from
the full strawberry moon
and her wild
to these gifts
ag ~ 2014
In the New York Times Sunday Review there is a pleasant article on how procrastination favors creativity. Yes.
drumming instead of dusting
a chance to wander while motes
float the bass beats
I went to a rockin’ open mic last night at Rest Stop Rejuvenate (RSR), an intimate and charming listening room, with a tiny stage and a big creative sound! RSR is a recovery-friendly and audience participatory/supportive venue. For a small donation, you get to enjoy three to four hours of local artists (i.e. regular folk by day) playing and jamming their hearts out along with coffee, tea and cookies. Last night was special, although I seem to say that about almost every open mic at RSR lately. The talent is off the charts repeatedly. We were treated to acapella song, guitar, mandolin, keyboard, harp, udu and djembe drums, steel pedal guitar, a mix of electronic music (by cell phone) and spoken word, slam poetry, personal poetry, reading of a Robert Frost poem from memory and more. The age demographic ran from early twenties to late sixties and the creative mix from cover songs to improv original work. It was an absolutely amazing night with a heartfelt tribute to the late great David Bowie. The energy and sense of community is truly built and felt through hugs, music, poetry and artistry. It’s so much more than an open mic – it’s a modern family with all its lovely, quirky, colorful and supportive appeal every third Saturday night of the month.