anomalies

phantasma
goria exposed
by shadows
dissolving
into borrowed wings eclipsed
by casting out light

11 surrealist women artists take centre stage for the ...

I’m behind a few weeks on posting my contributions to the Kick-About, but this is the most recent, a collage inspired by Sheila Legge’s Phantom of Surrealism, above. Masked in roses, she was photographed in a white dress and gloves, surrounded by pigeons in Trafalgar Square, a performance inspired by a painting by Dali.

Woman with a Head of Roses, 1935. By Salvador Dalí ...

I was drawn to the statuesque quality of the photo, particularly given the location, and I can never resist using birds in a collage.

And of course we all don our own masks–some are just more obvious than others.

just like that/either way

more
and more
crow-
ded in-
to less and
less—un-
fold-
ed and
folded a-
gain each new day–
do I need
to know
who
I am?
words scatter
like air–
gone,
disa-
ppeared

David at the skeptic’s kaddish introduced me to the waltz wave, an poetry form that asks you to separate the syllables for some of your words. I like to do this, especially in shadorma.

I found it to be a challenge, especially to find the right subject matter for this kind of verse. In the end I wrote two, both of which seemed to go well with an old collage I had done which was based on a painting by Redon.

do
dreams fly
or
tunnel?
flow or stun?
spiral
to
the cen-
ter or spin
out to the far-
thest away?
will they
em-
brace or
turn around?
para-
llel
or de-
part?

For Colleen’s #Tanka Tuesday, poet’s choice.

Also linking to dVerse OLN, hosted by Mish.

shadowsong

that song that your words called
into my mind, that song is like
a lost world, just images
in fragments, suspended like
a raincloud without rain,
a weight that refuses
 to dissipate–I can almost
feel the memory but it won’t
land, it keeps circling
through the things that aren’t
quite there–like a bird
call I can’t locate, disembodied
wings hovering invisible
inside my head

I realized immediately that I had seen Lotte Reiniger’s work before when I clicked on the link from the Kick-About prompt. It did not surprise me to hear her say, “I could cut out silhouettes almost as soon as I could manage to hold a pair of scissors.” Her work is, yes, “astonishing”.

Fairytale silhouettes by Lotte Reiniger - Beauty will save ...

Me? I never had that dexterity, not even when young. I also don’t work in film, which was Reiniger’s medium. So how to respond to this prompt?

I was going to work with simple bird silhouettes, but was unhappy with the ones I made myself. Once again, I had constructed a 3-D collage environment with cardboard pieces inside a paper bag. I decided to use photos of bird silhouettes, and hang them from strings at the top so they would move.

I used circles to enclose the bird forms so I could put different photos on each side–the images would change when the dangling circles turned.

Using the ceiling fan to create more movement, I began to take photos.

You can read more about Lotte Reiniger here, and see her extensive filmography here,

path of souls

I just learned last night of the death in November of Sharon Mann, a wonderful artist and bright spirit, who was diagnosed with brain cancer in 2019.

You can find her magical art and words here.

black dreams beat away sleep
with raw beauty beyond recall

what language uses shadows

to whisper why to ask
the moonlight to show who

sings the lost wind soaring
through the still blue time
of aftering

Oasis

It’s a robin, I think, as the melody enters my consciousness through the window.  But then it morphs into a litany of birds from cardinal to crow.  There may even have been a frog thrown in for good measure.

I can’t locate the bird to see who is gifting me with its repertoire of local wildlife sounds.  It could be a starling—I once lived in an apartment where the local starlings would sit on the roof railing next door every morning and tell me all they knew.  But there are also plenty of both mockingbirds and catbirds hanging around.

city fades
a sanctuary
feathered skies

A meditation on sanctuary for earthweal. Also linking to dVerse OLN, hosted by MsJadeLi.

Roig (Red)

Red is an imaginary carpet
dancing with desire,
lettering the days
with roses and birdwings.
Red is the sky
that turns the morning
into an omen, the night
into a full moon–
catching dreams
like a wayfaring balloon
painting the town with stars.

The NaPoWriMo prompt today is to write a poem that delves into the meaning of your first or last name. Roig means red in Catalan.

neocolor cardinal s

snow goose

parallel rhythms
fan into a V—to lead
and then to follow

opening I ride currents
weaving feathers with the wind

For Frank Tassone’s #haikai challenge goose. I chose to paint snow geese. It’s not draw a bird day, but any day is appropriate for birds.

It’s been a challenge for me to get any work done that I like, both with writing and art. I decided to do some ink and brush painting for the goose. This is an unforgiving medium, but one I enjoy, and the focus required was good for me. I spent an enjoyable hour painting, ending up as always with a pile of discards, but with a few worth posting.

I am continually reminded of my drawing teacher who told us that of every 100 drawings we did, only one would be worth saving–so draw, draw, draw.

thought for the day

postcard 15s

wish for bird gardens
your mind will grow feathers
float through air surprised

Another one of my postcard collaborations with the collage box Oracle.  This one was done on a postcard  of Monet’s “Peace Under the Lilac Bush”

I’ve been reading a book about Monet’s water lilies.  He didn’t start those monumental paintings until he was in his 70s, and worked on them throughout the years of World War I, refusing to evacuate from his beloved home and gardens at Giverny.  I haven’t quite reached that age yet, so I guess there’s still time for a creative endeavor or two for me as well.

linked to dVerse OLN, hosted by Bjorn

 

not crows,

not crows s

she said, but
count them, count them and
remember
what has not
yet been dreamed—what follows each
silhouette–

a breath that
removes what is not
required, keeps
what fills need
and refills it whenever
it becomes empty—

spellcast in
air, each wing gathers
force, compressed
like secrets–
talismans numbered and tossed
waiting for the wind

For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, and also posted to earthweal open link weekend.

not crows close up s