This month really did seem to fly by (at least on most days) and the daily writing and painting were a good thing. Looking forward to May and warmer spring days.
last day of april
both light and dark creeping in
cold and windycleaned my paintboxes
reminding these eyes about
sunshine and shadowpainting every day
made it easier to paint
even on gray dayswriting every day
waiting for anything worth
noting then writing.
The penultimate day of National/Global Poetry Writing Month. This morning I had a surprise waiting for me — a bear had come visiting and couldn’t figure out how to undo the two bungee cords that I secured the almost completely empty metal trash can where I stored my sunflower seeds. So, the bear did what bears do and pried up the lid of the can and bent it in half so he could reach in.
This afternoon I went to Colonie to watch The Return of the Jedi with my former co-worker Chris and his mother. So much detail to see on the big screen. I felt that having watched all the recent additions to the tale, there was even more to see and enjoy here. They have done an impressive job of continuity in the new stories and it doesn’t hurt at all what went before. Just my opinion.
Then dinner with mom and home to paint and write. Hopefully the bear won’t find anything more to investigate. I threw the cupful or so of see left into the thick of the dog roses out front.
In spring, bear visits.
too groggy to untie cords
he bends back the lid.In spring, bear visits.
he slept long until hungry
and he smelled birdseedIn spring, bear visits.
bungee cords were too strong but
the lid bent in half.In spring, bear visits.
He broke open the trash can
for a cup of seed.
Little helpful hint for you: if you decide to clean off some of your palette, and specifically, decide to wipe down the paint-sticky edges of it… make sure that your finished painting is somewhere far away and your clothes are all washable because I managed to disconnect the lid, drop the bottom with all the newly wet and cleaned out sections of paint which basically threw drops of bright color paint everywhere onto me and the newly done painting. Yeah, I meant to do that. Honestly, it’s a thing and I’ve never managed to get good dots of paint like this before!
Pencil width rolls of
Lily of The Valley leaves
Spiking the lawn edgethe light is fading
the robins take to the shrubs
reciting their dayall the fresh green leaves
fade to silver and blue
and everything sleeps
It’s hard not to bend down to look at what’s coming up when I go outside these days. There’s always something new and a hope that something will appear in some places. They usually wait til I’m not looking or I’ve given up. In the area that I cut down the old shrubs, there’s a delicate carpet of tiny green leaflets, no doubt due to more sunlight, looking to get a foothold.
In other news – quick trip to the art supply store (Arlene’s!!) for a roll of tape and well… I replaced all the hot press paper I’d used so I have some more to cut up and use!
Bent over the ground
this is how we welcome spring
looking for new life.Small familiar shoots
poking through the fragrant earth
unfolding greensa forgiving eye
the sprawl of leaflets – all weeds –
insisting on life.
This was either a second cuppa coffee and/or “gotta let this dry a little” break early on. While this painting is perhaps more frantic seeming than the actual jar of stems, I think it sort of captures a lot about them and the season. When I looked at the photo in my phone it offered to ID the plant for me, pointing at the actual leaves, and it did identify the main plant there correctly as garlic mustard.
One’s art goes as far and as deep as one’s love goes. — Andrew Wyeth
Mom and I went to a garden center and had a good time looking at the first wave of plants. I went because I needed a couple “models” for painting now that the daffodils are past, and I need to think about what to put where the shrubs were. The shrubs now piled along the driveway. It was bright and sunny when we were out and when I got home there were big clouds and spits of rain.
There are days I am
here I am here I am here
other days, barely.first shop for flowers.
a cart follows us around
who snuck all those in?piles of pruning,
labor of an afternoon,
line the drivewaycutting it away
putting stuff for donation
but where does it go?
Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiation – creation – there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans…
