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an exploration into a childhood medium  This summer, I am covering my hands in paste and digging in to paper mâché. Elevating this medium to fine art presents a challenge as it can be hard to resist to play and create something for pure fun...but I am feeling a deeper connection to the newspaper that I am using to create the forms and patterns. Printed news seems like a dying art with the digital age in full force .. and with the age of "fake news" buzzing in recent years...elevating print news holds a certain importance to me. Recycled news doesn't have to be just a bird cage liner.
monotype landscaping 
I made a sincere attempt to make every brush stroke have true intent. One of my favorite results was a depiction of the view looking out at the Atlantic Ocean from Long Sands Beach in York Maine. How do I visually capture the repeated sounds of waves crests crashing on the coastline? I will keep trying until I can really hear it. More to come.  LONG SANDS YORK MAINE - ACRYLIC MONOTYPE 10"X10" Words and Images from the BATTLEFIELD series  The Merciless One Erin Thomas Lay bare witness ahead of this thread In hurt and foregathered minefields Of tiniest men and forest resistance in the grazed and play of shared beat Impossible obstruction, these sayers of sooth These monsters of truth, these men of means and artifice Stippled naked and fought with might But a simple compound fracture, to repair In the darkest of dark nights Grown amongst insubstantial muds and suffocating bleach water And still, she rose. Above Below And beneath the luminous sun. Grit fairness awaken this head Outside the girth and weathered wheels Of largess woman and poorest existence In the pain and joy of scarred wheat Impassable construction, those layers of loot Those beasts of cooth, those women of sacrifice Clothed in your means and drawn tight But for a single faction, to compare To the locust of rights Glows against the substantial rutts and muffled cool ice And still, she has risen Above Below And beneath the perilous son. Fit awareness has shaken the bed Inside the hearth of feathered heels Of uncanny glen and the coarsest stance And the gain and coy of furthest heat Unstoppable liquidation became a hoot These meats of vermouth, those fibers of rice Bound by your seems and pulled tight Mounted by fractions, and styled hair And the focus of might Rows forth these financial mutts, with stifled lice And Still, He has risen Above Below And beneath The voluminous Gun Glib stares awkwards the web Internal bounds of tethered steels Even in then... the hoarsest chance Will wain and stall the torrid street Whelped introduction plucked the shoot And again, says the sooth, that shire of mice Found by the stream and mired might Anointed by actions and frazzled scare And the bogus of flight Tows North with specialized sluts rifled twice And Still, It has risen Above Below And beneath The Merciless One excerpt from BATTLEFIELD a word and visual exploration series from Erin Thomas   They listen, carefully
to their guide because they know for sure that the stick deters the wolf better than a bah. They love, fruitfully with their eyes because they know for sure that the sheerer soothes the skin better than the rain. E Thomas  I would love to tell a story about this human figure that's wearing a zucchetto and carrying a bunny across a desolate landscape, but I think in this case, it's more important that the viewer fills in the details and tells the story for themselves.
Images shot from the passenger side of a moving vehicle. York County / Southern Maine       
Every spring for the last twenty-some-odd years I've stopped somewhere along some road side to grab a few cattail stalks to make india ink pens. It's fairly easy to do...grab the driest ones, fairly thin, and carve the tip into a point with a utility or x-acto knife. You can also run the tip of your knife through the tip of your pen and split it in the middle like a calligraphy pen for even better ink welling.
I decided to make a small stack of cards using watercolors for the background, and the cattail ink pen for a drawing on top.   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. Too long. Disenchanted migraines & 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. Not deep. Punctured names running of rings & cauterized seer Forecaster with the self appointed crown. Keeping up with the Down.  |
Erin Thomas
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