Spring Planting

It seems like Spring brings the best art exhibits!  Among these shows is one that has the potential to expand the participating artists’ opportunities. Every year at this time,  Artwell Gallery in Torrington, CT holds their Show for a Show exhibition.  During the show, more than 50 major art museums and galleries from the tri-state region view the submissions and select works and artists to exhibit in their galleries.

 

spring


Flora – 24″ x 36″ x 1.5″ – acrylic & ink on wood panel

 

I have decided to enter Flora, a painting I did for the Girls,Girls, Girls show at the IO gallery last spring.  She didn’t sell and has been hanging on the wall of my office, mesmerizing me with her huge eyes and mysterious beauty.  I almost don’t want to part with her, but…  she may plant some seeds of opportunity for me!

 

The Show for a Show exhibition runs from April 4 through May 17 with the opening reception on April 4 from 6 – 9 p.m.

 

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Edit – 3/38/09 – I’m also submitting her for Illustration Friday‘s topic, Poise.  She does seem very poised, yes?  

Word-Art Opening

word-art

On Ancient Wings – 16″ x 20″ x 1″ – acrylic/mixed media on wood panel
 

Tonight is the opening of the 4th semi-annual Word-Art show at the Gallery on the Green in Canton, CT.  Once again, I had the honor of working with my dear friend, Karen Jasper, who wrote the poem “Wounded Bird” in response to my painting, “On  Ancient Wings.”  The show runs through April 12, with an evening of readings on Saturday, April 4 at 7:30.

 

Wounded Bird

 

Part 1

A swallow can fly miles, from treetop to ocean cliff,
The wind’s undertow buoyantly gliding her
To a resting place warm with possibility.

She is free, lifted higher by duty and family,
Not a thought outside of weather and wind,
Acceptance and choice safely within her span.

But then, jolted in flight,
her heart pumped deep
And she is transformed,

The unknown and unfamiliar
In that very moment,
A broken wing reclaiming

Something lost and ancient
Spiraling deep and desperate
Into the habitat of hidden.

Some species heal their wings
In solitude, licking and lying
In a nest of thin twigs

Healing from within
Until they can fly again,
To and from home.

But other species do not heal
And they tuck that wing
Underneath themselves,

Landlocked and less,
The natural order
Injured inside and out.

That species will push on
Practicing, praying, pretending
That wings are but a crutch;

Meanwhile hoping that reverse gravity
May rocket them up and open them wide,
Heedfully whole to fly again.

Part 2 (My Side)

 I fly from necessity

Hovering over leafy trees and endless water,

Following an inestimable path from home

Only to return again,

Where I’ll find my roots and rhythm

Deeply tucked in grainy sand.

I do not question why I do this–

This destiny of family and fate–

What I cannot fathom I will not change.

My twelve feather tail and meager wing span

Weigh in below two ounces,

 Not enough for my survival

And yet I maneuver and endure,

I doggedly sing my song

And tuck my broken wing

Under my expanding and rapid chest

Until I know if

I might fly again.

If I should die here

Unable to lift myself beyond this place

I will fly anyway

Straight to this indomitable future

Where I will be an African River Martin

tending and fending

Reaching still and always,

Weightless in my belief

That I was born for just this moment.

– Karen Jasper

SoulCollage Discovery Circle Starts March 22

soulcollage
New Spirit – Committee Card
 

Every year about this time, I begin to sense a re-emergence of spirit in anticipation of Spring.  For me, the Vernal Equinox signals a new year as I come out of hibernation, ready to welcome new growth and energy.  This year, I want to celebrate the Vernal Equinox and new beginnings by honoring my intuition and nourishing my creativity, and I invite you to join me on this journey.

Starting March 22, I will be hosting a SoulCollage Discovery Circle at my wings 4 you blog to work through Seena Frost’s book,  SoulCollage: An Intuitive Collage Process for Individuals and Groups, to create a deck of cards and share our experiences.  SoulCollage is a process by which you access your intuition and use expressive visual imagery to create a deck of collaged cards.  It is for anyone who is interested in self discovery and self expression in a creative, non-competitive environment.

 

SoulCollage cards are created by first allowing the power of images to call to you, and then intuitively composing them on cards to express the components of your personality, the archetypes, the community, and the animal guides that make up your own personal mythology.  In the process of creating your cards, you will connect with yourself in a deep and meaningful way and discover many truths that have remained hidden within.  

 

All you need to start is to leave a comment here and purchase a copy of Seena Frost’s book, SoulCollage: An Intuitive Collage Process for Individuals and Groups.  Then starting March 22, I will post a prompt each week and provide a place for you to leave a link to your blog so you can share your SoulCollage journey with the circle.  

 

You can read more about SoulCollage here.

Medusa: It’s Intricate

medusa

Medusa – 9″ x 12″ – micron pen/digital color


Whenever I read Greek mythology, I am always intrigued by the intricacies of the gods’ relationships!  This is a drawing I posted a few years ago, along with the story of Medusa.

 

The Gorgons of Greek mythology were so hideous that the mere sight of them would turn anyone who gazed their way to stone. They were, according to the poet Hesiod, so frighteningly repulsive to the senses that they “were not to be approached and not to be described.” Medusa, the only one of the three who was mortal, was born beautiful with a head of luxuriant, shining hair. The lusty Poseidon took a fancy to her, and disguised as a horse, seduced her in the temple of Athena. Enraged, Athena transformed Medusa into a monster whose most common portrayal shows her once beautiful hair as a mass of writhing snakes.

 

Medusa

 

She is the gypsy

Whose young have rooted

In the very flesh of her scalp.

 

Her eyes are drill-holes where

Your senses spin, and you are stone

Even as you stand before her.

 

She opens her lips to speak,

And have you believe.

She has more tongues to deceive

 

Than you can deafen your ears to.

If you could look away, the voices

From the heads of her vipers

 

Would be hard to argue.

If you could look away,

The pedestals of your feet might move.

 

If you could look away, 

The song from the cathedral of her mouth

Would fall to the floor like a lie.

 

– Frieda Hughes (1960 – )

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