Yesterday I worked all day, continuing to add pattern and color to the canvas I began and then last night I slept like a baby. Today, I will add some symbols that I dreamt of but will also be writing. In the past I had the great privilege of studying with a wonderful local poet, Cecilia Frey, and also have had poems published. But, even more so than my painting, or maybe because I have already shared my paintings in many, many exhibits, I find it difficult to share my poetry publicly. So, to challenge myself, and to open my soul even more, I have been writing poems in conjunction with this series of paintings I've been working on. I may read a few at the opening and thought I'd share something in progress today:
My Paddle Sings I miss the song my paddle sings as it dips and drips, dips and drips in the cool black northern water 'I saw!' Raven cries as he flies over boreal forest 'I see,' I think. I see. My home is this land north of 56 where Timber Wolf talks to Moon and Black Bear turns to watch with amber eyes. 'Yes,' I think. Yes. This is the song my paddle sings.
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Honouring AncestorsAIRdirondack Art ProjectPlacemakingAlberta (above) +
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