Monday, November 22, 2010


so i was thinking about artistic influence, lately a whole new group- Mitchell, Squeak, Krasner-- there were a small number of female names in the art world- but they resonate at this point in time..
and mix well into the poets sexton, silvia, dickinson, stein..olga.somehow I have taken that all in and the results are my next step in painting-- thanksgiving stew.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010


always awed by the courage demonstrated in great struggle

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

that's what happens

school started and now, three months later a take a breath-

rat race ecar tar e car tar ec art ar

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

back to school

When there is no time to be idle... those long hours where inspiration is born and grows into art... no time for reflection...

i want to do nothing for long periods of time
absolutely nothing

this over-booked over-lived life is depleting everything meaningful

Wednesday, August 4, 2010


Summer flash floods- and then; Do you remember when getting some new clean notebook, those fresh blank pages full of promise, almost made going back to school bearable?

On my mind is that u-tube about the brain scientist with a stroke; the connectivity in the universe about most things is irrefutable though the motivation, causes, the why of it- is completely debatable. One keeps reading about energy existing after the body dies. Such a nice thought. Joy, the essence of joy is really just knowing what really is at any given moment- and then connecting those moments in something other than time. To be redundant; the connectivity in the universe is irrefutable. This is the energy that can not be decomposed. I think what I am trying to say- is - IS.
There was talk in the work place over the nature of language and thought- especially thinking in other languages creating different thought---but when the words are completely turned off in the brain- (during a stroke) etc.. there is enormous peace and that exists in every culture- ubiquitous peace within reach. ok-- I will get more practical.. I will write this short list of fascinating things I learned just today and mostly from friends!
1. To skip stones across the waters scientists researched that a twenty degree angle is best. (Brian Wall)
2.Pablo Casals-- has the best rendition of the Bach Cello suites (this after listening for weeks to YOYO's- no offense Yo Yo Ma--brilliant too but it is true Casals contains so damn much emotion.
3. I learned of another brain researcher who was motivated by a brother with schizophrenia- Jill Taylor and she taught me that the brain really does work in separate hemispheres- I'd been confused reading about all that communication between the hemispheres -it minimalized the differences--but she lost part in a stroke and the insights led to an understanding I am still processing-- something universal about our brain and with optimistic perceptive lenses- something that explains language and infinity. but I need to process that a bit.
4. A simple walk with a good friend can wake you up (Leslie)
ok--- that was the days take-aways-- and I am back to blogging. and here is an image of new sculpture in the works--took the wax parts to the foundry today! notice again the joy on this man's face.

Friday, July 2, 2010

hello again

So, of course NYC was amazing; and I loved reading some poems at Perch in Brooklyn. Thanks Perch. So many amazing folks in NYC, for the first time I really wanted to live there. I don't know why it took so long to stir that desire. The art is everyone and the artists enter every conversation, and I feel at home. Oh well, back to be the stranger in a strange Denver land. A very productive summer so far. Two marriages-- two beautiful brides named Jenny. And lots of art- I'll post my new painting. I am completely expanding my range of colors; had avoided pink so long and am now just thinking it is beautiful. What is it about time, experiences, whatever, that changes ones tastes so completely. How do any marriages last? I was also thinking about that educational concept -readiness-; that is so profoundly powerful. preparing the foundations for "readiness" because when one is ready-- one is a sponge for what one was readied for. I am a sponge for art now.-wish I had been when I was younger, I was told by many succesful NY artists that connections are everything, as is being "young and hip" I do have the hips! Next week on to Mexico. ahhhh I can smell the relaxtion rolling onto the sand already.

Thursday, June 10, 2010


Looking for art in NYC. So much to choose from --any ideas.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

new book

Bird In Hand

new post!

So, I was thinking about love tonight as I take another leap, still there is this idea that falling in love with life itself, that irrepressible force might be a better idea, and I am wondering how all this will look in paint.. one last bit of news, Bird IN Hand should be done by May 7th. Why does someone write a book? such an egotistical gesture, then again why not.

Friday, April 9, 2010

New web-site test

So I am learning to blog again. Lots of poems these days- Sunday should be great if you are in the hood. Many Many poets. I will read one or two for the first public reading in years for me. Looking more forward to hearing the others.
NYC plans booked.. also doing a reading in Brooklyn- details will follow. It is June 15th,
a few days after the WEDDING.
Paula if you read this, I love the new site.

The big annual show is the first Friday in May. So far the plan is to have the new book out by then. Food and drink too. A Turkey Buzzard Press 2010 edition. The buzzards are also coming in May for another literary event! The Kettle Reading.

Well this is a test, it is only a test.

Friday, March 19, 2010

best poem i ever wrote

The Long Silence

The fear I feel from not knowing
what is real is real.
Silent in this incipient stage
where I begin to search for a worthy answer.

Waiting for truth I paint sky
dripping down a cobalt red over indigo
shadows, pulsing flake white clouds
on dark cerulean blue hues-
let go one drip of cadmium yellow
and it falls and it falls
slowly in its steady trance
onto the horizon
the way a man falls
off a bridge and
from one world to another.

I read old papers, cut collages
from letters written after the bombing
in a Madrid train station.
While they are counting the dead
it rains for two days
a woman says it’s not raining;
Madrid is crying.

Sudan is crying
Israel is crying
Palestine is crying
Afghanistan is crying-
The ocean overflows with this salt
teared translucent water
flooding onto the earth.

I go to Mexico for vacation
go to get away from life-
but there it is in Mexico
in Spanish.

In the corner of my room
behind the open door
two pigeons are mating,
one on the others’ soft back
cooing and cooing loudly,
their small storm blew in from my balcony.
I felt the breeze, heard the wonder
but it took a long time to look up from my book-
because I believed they were outside.

That is the way it was supposed to be with birds,
so soft and elegant and free
the way I was taught to see
despite small feathers on the floor.
Despite mounting evidence to the contrary,
I remain stubbornly clinging to ideas
more comfortable than true.

Soon it is silent again
and I turn on the news to fill space.
The war goes on without much protest.
We grow powerless hearing numbers
numbers without faces
numbers that just don’t add up
no Fibonacci sequence
when our children die.

Pushed from one world to another.

Leaning over the rail
I am balancing between the past
and future, in a moment
I will get old.
In that moment the past will pull me,
and the future will fold.

On the tenth floor I’ve become a cliff dweller
dreaming about what was,
peering into windows
framed lit squares,
cut from bits of star.

The moon still hangs like a giant pearl
on god’s neck,
over an ocean
glittering with sea-light.
Knowing all that’s vulnerable
can die,
but no storm puts out a light,
energy just moves
from one world to another.

From my perch I
search the shapes floating,
unreadable, signs undulating over dark waves-
I think of diving head first like a fisher-bird
filling my belly with all those tiny lights
but I decide to take my time.

I am watching life from a balcony above Banderas Bay
baring witness,
but witness is not enough when casualties are being counted.
We are still building new Museums -
never again, and
never again and
again and again.

I’ve become a collector of little auguries
pennies found heads-up.
I adjust my vision – to futures of children
not being anything like I’d ever imagined.
I am just now learning to appreciate
small victories, though they stopped
feeling sorry long ago
because being mentally ill is nothing to be ashamed of
being mentally ill is nothing to be ashamed of
being mentally ill is nothing to be ashamed of.
Life is harder, takes more courage some days.
Nothing to be ashamed of.
Still there is a grieving for what once was.

The titanium milk spills
from cracked clouds into 14 billion eyes.
But No one can really see.
As this stream
covers our cries-we listen
because the answer is coming-
I can feel it falling
from one world to another.

not it

Cfso layojg toqnt the blueds

Laying down the blues

Cobalt, cerulean, Mediterranean blue

Laying down the blues…

Monday, March 15, 2010

Monday April 5th is the closing show for the Buell Theater exhibit. Check it out. I am going to the closing as I missed the opening. The show was extended by demand??

Today I heard something about taking a chance in life, you have to if you want to get some where.
Ann Weiss was referring to finding her pictures in Auschwitz those photos of the lives rather than deaths of the victims. Anyway I've been thinking a lot about risk lately, the risk one takes in art to make something meaningful, if only to the artist, without such risk the world would be the dullest place; all great artists took risks; many remain completely unknown after long- lives of making art- - digging into themselves and pouring it out. Ok there is risk for risks sake and there is courage and trust that world will safely place you back on earth. I read some family notes; I guess my grandfather's side of the family lost six in Auschwitz. So much perspective in such a short time.
Don't forget to make each day memorable in some small way.
going to paint some blues..

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Dreaming Across Borders

This painting about crossing borders is currently at the Buell Theater- take a look.

Friday, February 26, 2010

2d blog

I was thinking about intuition and spontaneous expression and the type of abstract expressionistic stuff that really visualizes emotion, and that very deliberate line, drawn to represent something, as I love a symbol, putting them together maybe that is how I write as well. The poetry of painting; I want to ramble. words dripping cobalt cobalt alt.

I guess it was Newman who said, criticism is to the artist as ornithology is to the birds.