fine art prints
I started this blog after moving to northern New Mexico from coastal North Carolina. Feeling the loss of my creative community, I started posting works in progress as a way to push myself forward and connect with other writers and painters.
For the first eight months or so I offered original narrative images as weekly image prompt for writers. The Storybook Collaborative pages document the collaborations.
Sadly - for I have enjoyed the adventure, and meeting so many interesting, creative souls - keeping the blog has has taken a back seat to sleep, family, work obligations and the birth of our Mountain daughters. I'd like to get back to it and still hope to one day. Until such time I am delighted by your visit and hope you will leave a comment and come back for more.
Category Archives: recovery
This is an edited re-posting of of something I wrote a few days ago, hopefully free of blather. I picked up a virus from the kids and while they recovered quickly I developed pneumonia, a condition I am predisposed to. … Continue reading
…and a picture… the reflection… is anything as it seems? SIZZLE Sigh, child, and sink into the world you know. Let butterflies appear in snow. So what, if the rains come back to Nicaragua? They always do. Would you add … Continue reading
well, nobody asked, but I’ll try to explain it anyway, if only for myself. I can’t remember if the post below – She sits upon a windowsill – started as a journal fragment or as a line that jumped into … Continue reading
Very much a work in progress…. She sits upon a windowsill and spies a laughing boy, about eleven, barefoot by the water’s edge beneath the tree’s green reaching hands. The canopy throws its color down and lights the shadows with … Continue reading
So we smashed like acrobats, a mess of arms and legs and heads and backs, spinning through the flaming hoops to meet the leaping, happy cats and all those clowns in human suits, and all their senseless chatter. The main … Continue reading
Whereabouts and Wanderlust traveled hand in hand. Each one loved the other most and trekked through many lands. Altogether they were happy, blue eyes and blue. Sleeping children brought them flowers, with love, from me to you. And so the … Continue reading
Whereabouts and Wanderlust traveled hand in hand. Each one loved the other most and trekked then many lands. Altogether they were happy blue eyes and blue. Sleeping children brought them flowers, with love, from me to you.
Transcript Barack Obama’s Speech on Race Published: March 18, 2008 The following is the text as prepared for delivery of Senator Barack Obama’s speech on race in Philadelphia, as provided by his presidential campaign. “We the people, in order to … Continue reading
I am traveling with 20 uwc-usa students (from 10 countries!) and faculty on a border studies trip and will be away for another 6 – 7 days. Hope to post along the way but internet is sketchy as we go … Continue reading
1. Sweet sweet engine of mercy, bright flying speck in the sun, tomorrow I’ll be riding a donkey, tomorrow I’ll be on my way home. Ah! The invisible carnival ride, I’m standing in line to climb on. Twirling and spinning … Continue reading
This is the conference Naomi is organizing in Santa Fe this weekend. Fun and educational. Anybody in the area please come! (And please introduce yourself!) Details here: http://www.uwc-usa.org/cec/peace.htm Sponsored By United World College-USA, Monte Del Sol Charter School, Santa Fe … Continue reading
She sits upon a windowsill and spies a laughing boy, about eleven, walking barefoot by the water’s edge beneath the tree’s green reaching hands. The canopy throws its color down and lights the shadows with reflections, the subtle ocher, umber, … Continue reading
I am in Boston this weekend to say goodbye to an old friend. Here is the death notice, which appeared today in the Boston Globe Ivan Gold Of Boston, formerly of New York City on December 23, 2007, writer, teacher, … Continue reading
I found this calf in Merida, in the mountains of western Venezuela. The painting began as a scumble of color on a tinted and sanded 2′ x 4′ masonite panel. Then I stalled out. I had earlier painted a series … Continue reading
I was born in a hearse, I carry my curse, from midnight to midnight, searching by lamplight, for someone to find me, a hand that can guide me, through the streets that hide me, from midnight to midnight.
Here is a little darkling of a poem that has been rattling around my brainpan. I’ll try to make something a little more upbeat for my next post. The image I have paired here is the 3rd panel in a … Continue reading
A picture poem of the morning. Quote by Eileen Mayhew.
Let me just sit and feel the morning change into her winter clothes again. Summer’s breath just passed across my hands, undulating like a line of pelicans above the dunes and hollows of my palms. I have become my age. … Continue reading