Germination

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Pencil on Bristol Board.

Lately I have been dreaming of 

rising through layers within a 

living form made of 

desire for light.

The gentle light of 

May, in between the storms

flash and rage, filtered through 

just warming earth.

We rise and reaching for 

the blue space and 

reaching down for

into darkness for the power

that will drive us up

until we are pulled bursting

into this middle world 

scattered and groping

in the overwhelming of chaos of 

individuality

 hoping to gather ourselves together

for another spring.

 

Posted in Abstraction, All part of the process, capturing light, Chaos and Order, delusions of progress, Drawing, My Art, poetry, spring, the end is the beginning | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

In the Blue Space Between Storms.

We move through explosions of spring.

 

 

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Video: Martín Espada reads “Imagine the Angels of Bread”

Maybe not this year, but sometime soon. Let’s make it so. Or as close to this as possible.

Vox Populi

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As a poet, essayist, translator, editor, and attorney, Martín Espada has dedicated much of his career to the pursuit of social justice, including fighting for Latino rights and reclaiming the historical record. Espada’s critically acclaimed collections of poetry celebrate—and lament—the immigrant and working class experience. Whether narrating the struggles of Puerto Ricans and Chicanos as they adjust to life in the United States, or chronicling the battles Central and South American Latinos have waged against their own repressive governments, Espada has put “otherness,” powerlessness, and poverty, into poetry that is at once moving and exquisitely imagistic. “Espada’s books have consistently contributed to … unglamorous histories of the struggle against injustice and misfortune,” noted David Charlton in the National Catholic Reporter. The author of over ten collections of poetry and several books of essays, multiple translations of Chicano and Latino authors, and as editor of influential anthologies like El…

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Blue Skies, Rain and Fungus

Spring in Western Washington

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1 abstract x 4

Original graphite on paper.

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She Thinks of Dark Matter Unfolding

Various Black Ballpoint Pens and Paper

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2 More Spring Poems

Territory

Birds are pissed off,

All day long alarming boundaries,

Flashing colors,

Screaming dawn til dusk.

 chill is out.

Babies need breakfast.

Thoughts invaded.

Dream Spring

There were always these

Soft motions

Toward swaying

Tenderly underwater

a breeze

Filmy traces of sweet scent

through curtains yellow with sun.

Posted in Art in Nature, capturing light, change, Chaos and Order, Dreamtime, Life with Animals, My Art, paying attention, poetry, spring, Wild Life | Tagged , | Leave a comment