When I need a little breath, and maybe some inspiration, I head up to Mount Agamenticus in York County Maine...I can see the mountain from my inland home from fall until the full spring bloom...and it's only about a 30 minute drive for me to get there.
The top of the mountain offers walking & hiking trails, stunning views on all sides...views of the coastline & the mountain ranges all the way to New Hampshire and little glimpses of lakes and structures around the area and an endless sea of trees....but for me, it's the colors and textures that always capture me...an ever changing feast of leaves, branches, blooms and bugs in various states of decay and birth.
Capturing what I see and feel and sharing it eludes me....and so it keeps me captivated with the challenge of bottling it up for keeps. And so begins my annual spring art obsession with Aggie.
p e a c e & l o v e
keeping up with the down
You were followed,
for a long time.
& the sounds of screeching strings
echoed in tired ears.
Keeping up with the down.
You are hallowed
for the song line.
Too pretty, too ugly.
Fractured mind games
& the rule of Kings
Repetition of mired self hating tears.
Losing ground with the Glower.
You were hallowed out
for the wrong time,
Oracle of things.
Knew better than even the
repetition in a mired tear.
Losing ground with the frown.
Unplowed but sown,
Never so fine.
running of rings
& cauterized seer
Forecaster with the self appointed crown.
Keeping up with the Down.
My husband brought an axe home just for me. It's a perfectly me-sized mini-axe that I can carry around with me while I walk the dog in case a sick coyote challenges us, or I can use it to cut down the small trees that try to take over my garden ...and I can slice the vines of poison ivy that snake into my space every spring...but...in my mind, i want to chop down everything....EVERYTHING.
Yes, this is a political post.
I still remember the feeling in my gut when I wore skates...it was a freedom like no other...there was a time in my childhood when I skated circles in my parents basement... round and round, over and over...pretending I was in a championship race, or a graceful performer...sometimes it was on an iced pond, or at an indoor rink with friends with blaring rock and roll in the background...or just quality time with my thoughts outside...I loved my skates over any other childhood item. I'm quite certain I'd break a hip if I got on them now. If I had health insurance, I may be more willing to take that risk just to get back that wonderful feeling for a fleeting moment.
If you are lucky, you've had that one kiss that swept you off your feet, made you feel like you are floating, that time itself stopped.
If you are lucky in love, you have that kiss everyday when you wake up...
Maybe you are still searching for that kiss...
or maybe you are trying to hang on to that kiss...
...or maybe, you are mourning it's loss.
No matter your path, always...ALWAYS...love.
I set out to sketch with over-fishing in mind...i pictured a tiny boat with tens of thousands of fish being hoisted up into the boat with a gigantic net that dwarfed the boat...i googled over-fishing...and I shed a tear or maybe two. Some of these ocean sweeping vessels are pure evil monstrosities that scrape every inch of life from a lively section of ocean.
My sensitive nature didn't allow me to further explore the vast destruction that is happening now in our seas, so I reigned in those images that were flooding my brain thus avoiding a bleeding ulcer and a mental collapse. I brought it back to simpler times and how on a smaller level, we can all over consume, or, hit the lottery. This image could bring about feelings of bountiful riches and goodness, or it could be construed as greed...either way, here is a boy fishing...and me sleeping well, Amen.
Gallerists have often accused me of having "too many hands", and that has never bothered me. Utilizing multiple hands, or working in multiple mediums, gives me the visual freedom I crave....
There are lots of ways to tell stories in visual language, I'm in it for the stories.
Everyone should have a voice.