I did have the NaPoWriMo prompt in mind today when I visited the Oracle. At least in terms of a song. My things are mostly in boxes, not drawers, at the moment–this is my third move in the last 18 months so it’s all junk now. I was also thinking how much I would like to just take an entire day and do nothing but sleep. Which led me to James and Joni. And the Oracle obliged.
all I want is to sleep beneath a still sky– a shadow of whispered light on water moondreaming the wind
“You were once wild here. Don’t let them tame you.” –Isadora Duncan
presence, breath, the mystery of the body– here and now, never once upon a time– wild eternity
full of what is—translating and transforming each step through the labyrinth that is you– synchronal, alive
This is a Kick-About prompt (the quote from Isadora Duncan) that I never posted. I had an idea to do collage illustrations, but the photos of Isadora dancing made me want to try to capture them in gestural drawings.
I haven’t used pastels in a long time, but I can see why Degas chose them so often to render his dancers. The body becomes transformed by dance, lighter and more transparent. Otherworldly.
For NaPoWriMo, and also linking to the dVerse prompt from Grace, The Body & Poetry.
Back when the musical “Hair” came out, some astrologers grumbled that it wasn’t really the Age of Aquarius yet. But what did we care? We were tired of the world as it was, ready for Peace Love and Understanding.
Well…maybe not.
chaotic stillness watching from the whorled center for new beginnings
During 2020 there were rumblings once again online about the REAL Age of Aquarius finally showing up. I was skeptical to say the least.
all those lost patterns– I collect them in my mind, in new rotations
It seems we had the Age of Aquarius skewed, not only in time. Yes, it’s a total tearing down and rebuilding. But it’s going to require hard work. Taking a lot of drugs and wearing tie-dye and listening to songs about love won’t do it.
all impermanence— no matter which way you turn the path continues
Can we change our entire approach to living together, not only with each other, but with the earth, its creatures, its landscape, its elements? We need to if we want to survive.
giving myself hope inside my dark wanderings– a world of wonder
When Phil asked me to choose this week’s Kick-About prompt, I thought immediately of The Age of Aquarius, because I’ve been turning over in my mind the hope that it might be real, that humanity can change. I always loved the music posters of the “Hair” era, and used them as inspiration for my neon colored paintings.
I’m looking forward to seeing all the other responses next week.
“But nobody pointed out that the web itself is a miracle.” –E B White, “Charlotte’s Web”
how the sun multiplies dewdrops hovering on nearly invisible threads tiny iridescent pearls
scattered on paths that cross woven in waves that whisper with the breeze leaving sparkling trails like a fairy’s wand
releasing the magic of stars to the light connecting sheltering enabling this miraculous life
Today for Day 6 the NapoWriMo prompt says: Go to a book you love. Find a short line that strikes you. Make that line the title of your poem. Write a poem inspired by the line. Then, after you’ve finished, change the title completely. I chose “Charlotte’s Web” which has many many good lines to choose from.
Another shadorma chain, with art from the archives.
may every tree spread its roots interlocking together to create a vast community bird-adorned canopy meeting in the intersected threads cast by branches and leaves maple ginko oak beech linden willow pine walk with the wind as they sail ancient stories of beginning stillness echoed back
The NaPoWriMo prompt for Day 5 was to find a poem, and then write a new poem that has the shape of the original, and in which every line starts with the first letter of the corresponding line in the original poem. I chose Lucille Clifton’s “blessing the boats”
I was also inspired by an article in the NY Times yesterday about the wonders of the oak tree.
The paintings were inspired by the tree paintings of Joan Mitchell.
The NaPoWriMo prompt for Day 3 is intriguing. I already know about Michael McClure’s “Personal Universal Deck” and it’s on a long list of things I’d like to do as I love cards of all kinds. But it needs more than a day to do properly, and I only have an hour on this particular day.
So I stuck with the Oracle’s deck of magnetic words, as I do most Saturdays. She knows these are holy days, as is every day when we pay attention to the wonders of the earth and its seasons. Who will save her?
spring seeds light birds flower air bees following
I’ve lived many places in the same location—how many deaths are contained in those serial lives? And what of the try-outs, the short visits that only caused chaos from beginning to end?
Not all remain empty– I can still hear them rattling the corners of memories born in dreams. If I didn’t fit into every context I passed through, I still left parts behind—
Words I wrote that make no sense now that I’m no longer there—echoes that still linger around the edges of every song I sing. Perhaps they live in the parts I can’t quite recall—
Or in all those apartments that populate my dream world, the ones I return to again and again, traversing dark streets—it is always night—eerily quiet with noirish cinema light.
Every one contains stairs and phantom rooms, windows in hallways and former inhabitants—not quite ghosts– but there, there, as much as I, in what is called real life, keep moving on.
This may have some relation to today’s NaPoWriMo prompt of the road not taken. Maybe.
“The world around us is absolutely mind-blowingly amazing….All you have to do is pay attention. Then the stars come out and they dance with you.”–John Muir Laws
Common you say. Everyday you say. and it’s true: night follows day follows night. Many things form patterns, yet within the patterns are mysterious variations, expressions of one particular momentary intersection of space and time. The moon playing with clouds. Water coming in contact with light. A tree, any tree, in any season. Who can forget an insect’s wing? Pigeons swooping in unison between the roofs of buildings. Common. And yet. But still. It stops me. Looking, listening, wondering. Every day.
The NaPoWriMo prompt today has a link to an animation of the music of the Sun Ra Arkestra. Sun Ra was in tune with the world’s amazingness, but you don’t need psychedelic imagery to notice it.
Brendan at earthweal asks this week: What is the turning point that gets us out of this labyrinth of fated humanity? Who or what must we embrace? How do we find our way into the Totality?
We could start by just paying attention.
For NaPoWriMo this year I will mostly, if not entirely, be using art from the archives. I am in the pre-panic phase of my move–a little over 2 weeks before the movers come. I may not post every day, but I’ll do my best.
You can also see my art this month at the Ekphrastic Challenge at Wombwell Rainbow. Two other artists, and many wonderful poets, including Merril Smith and Jane Dougherty, are participating.