Mixed Mediums
Torn portraits of the past
hold seconds of time,
a click of a camera captures a moment
that will dissolve away;
Of a place,
or a person,
or a feeling.
A single moment never to be relived,
only visited time and again.
A window of sorts to what was...
My first camera was a Polaroid SX-70 Land and even then, I knew how much I enjoyed capturing the beauty all around me. This is a collection of how I see things.
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My commentary on recently completed works, status of ongoing projects, and my thoughts on the things that inspire me...
I missed Tuesday,
it's Wednesday here,
maybe I've been cheated,
seems as though
it was only Saturday
yesterday,
I'm confused,
the days just seem
to melt away.
Week after week,
year after year
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Toy cameras and real film... Does it get any more fun?
Fragments of my life flit by
seen through kaleidoscope
facets that make me cry
and bar my dreams from hope
Visions of an earlier me
in shredded photographs
seen through shrouded memory
on jagged broken paths
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When pencil touches paper and the words don't flow, sometimes the images do...
The brush held firm in your hand
An extension of your own existence,
As much life in it as in yourself
The old paint
that has collected and dried
from top to bottom
The many colors
that tell of its history
The many colors
that show its place
The new paint
that now consumes the bristles
The lonely color
that tells of its freshness
The lonely color
that cries for acceptance
Each stroke leaving behind a memory of itself
Never to be repeated
One of a kind
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If a picture is worth a thousand words, what is a picture and a poem worth?
Waiting all day
For mail at my door
I wrote to
The woman I adore
Giving thanks on line
Or face to face
Five megabytes
of free space.
On google, on Instagram,
Even in outlook
look for your reply
maybe posted to Facebook.
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Some of my words and the stories behind them...
READ MY WORDS
Had I the wit of Ogden Nash, the shivery of Poe
Could I immortalize the past as Byron or Caro,
The old conventions I would shake, an “Eduardo” seek,
I’d raise the walls of liberty and champion the weak.
Were I as sane as Dickinson, knew of Cummings’ arts
“in-just” a net of “words” I’d seize the moods of human hearts
Then sPrInG would be my prisoner, and I should have the key,
“Much-Madness” would the sanest shout, and point and stare at me.
As Sandburg scatters to the wind the ash of eras past,
And Khayam wonders deep in thought if present souls will last,
“Ozymandias” erodes the more, the words of Dunne surpass,
And Shakespeare lives within his plays, as Whitman’s “Leaves of Grass”
If I, with sense of all these arts, could mistake their skill,
A mocking bird I’d never be and write as others will
For I’ll not reach to borrow from the art of anyone;
But I shall make my words my own, until my life is done.
Mixed media artwork that changes a book from its original form into a different form, altering its appearance and/or meaning.
lost and forgotten loves
become forgotten poems
on forgotten pages
written long ago
wounds inflicted
by cruel lovers
bleed through my pen
and become scars on a page
of notebook paper
healed and forgotten
concealed
but still there
TURN THE PAGES
Words can create imagery, but what if the same words were also the imagery...
Poets in written words
Musicians playing tunes
Artists brushing canvas
Of suns, stars and moons
All creating each piece
Poets penned emotions
Musicians in each song
Brush strokes of oceans
Songs, scenes or pages
Framed in colorful hues
All word painted songs
A heart’s visionary views
Each artist given palette
Brushed on heartstrings
All emotionally displayed
On flowing painted wings
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Words, Images, and Drawings.... A way to combine different streams of creativity into a mixed media presentation.
Fragile palettes of color
sail like imaginations unfurled,
as God's fireworks burst just below
into temporary explosions of delight,
catching our irises
and making us pupils
of his institution of love,
granted to all
for just brief moments
in the span of time.
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