“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions” ~Rainer Maria Rilke
Spitting dragons out my fingertips,
Racing golden arrows ripping
open hearts and tongues-
Do you see?
Iridescent heat waves
coruscating pure delight!
Such sublime sovereignty
it hurts to hesitate and yet,
we always do.
I love this event! How could I not?
24 hours of art-making madness with my wonderful, creative, wackyass friends and community?
I had so much fun this year. I drew/painted four lovely works on paper..
..and bodypainted the lovely Kerry:
And read a short, new poem:
Tiny,
wailing on the brink,
I cower before the echoing,
thunderous laughter
of my own heart.
You can see the rest of the loverly pictures here.
Aaaaaaaah, my art life is amazing right now.
JOY!
My bones are made of stubborn tonight.
Everything’s twitches and itches,
my mind leaps and snarls,
a wildcat frustrated
by far too many
mirrors and only
one real mouse.
My friend Svadesh wrote this poem in response to his recent heart attack and the resultant outpouring of love and protest from his friends. I must say, we’re awfully glad his mortal conglomeration decided to stay conglomerate for a while longer. As conglomerations go, ’tis one of the very finest.
I didn’t know before it happened
You brought the flower to my door
My funeral had begun
The voices intoning their concern—
Their love.
On the gurney you don’t know
Your fate, the part of breath you’ll be next hour
The mechanical magician working on my form
While I watch the rivers and brooks of my heart
On television
And then,
Back into this body once again
Feeling the life
The way I like it.
Your emotions and thoughts trekking through unseen space
Touch me tenderly with that feeling we all know so well
And forget and remember … again and again.
Thank you dear friends
No wake for this mortal conglomeration now
The funeral has been delayed so further experience
I may gather on the soul’s path into the great unknown.
Svadesh
My show opened last weekend. It was glorious and fun and delicious.
So cool to see all the paintings and sculptures I’ve been working on all spring proudly sprouting up on the walls next to Sophie’s haunting impressions of dilapidated industrial spaces. So wonderful to be surrounded by my friends and community.
I’m a lucky girl.
The performances were awesome, passionate and inspiring. My momma read my favorite poem of hers while Maris played the flute and Jean danced. My chi gong/meditation/massage teacher, Svadesh honored me with a participational chant and a reading on the Tonal. Cody and Amy danced a delightful, hilarious routine on love and bologna sandwiches, Alex and Vanessa did a wild yearning butoh piece, Courtnee sang her lovely Last Breath song and Jean finished us up with another gorgeous dance. The food was luscious and abundant(thanks Kim!)-indeed, so abundant that we’ve been eating it happily all week! Mmmm… Cherries and chocolate.
Yay for creative friends! Thank you all SO MUCH! I love you.
Oh, and I read my artist poem:
I’m an artist.
Or so i remind myself
when i get those looks.
Wrinkling with incomprehension
as things fall out of my mouth
in less than discernable order.
It’s all grippable though,
I have to believe that, even if
so much fertility is hard to handle.
Winter’s frozen poetry thaws
on my tongue, trickling a thin line,
tart and sweet across the canvas.
Big, strong, veiny hands spreading,
stroking, caught in their
fervent reverie.
The squirming painful surges
every bit as dynamic as
pleasures hottest urges.
Don’t worry my bones into
a semblance of sense,
just look, touch, taste…
Soak it up or leave it
flapping vexatiously in the periphery
of your week’s routine.
Until you’re ready to yield
some part of yourself,
some of that nagging conviction perhaps?
Don’t fret, you can always snatch
it up and put it on again
(if it’s not too tight).
Take my hand for a moment,
Perhaps it will help to know
I’m here too.
Playing in the dark.
There was much art viewing, mingling and sparkling conversation, I sold three paintings(woot!), we cleaned up(hurray for Delayne , king of dishes and humming), goofed off and then, came home and had a wonderful bonfire party! D got the fire blazing whilst I threw together a lamb spaghetti sauce and pasta(I’m told I can’t call it spaghetti iffen it’s not actually spaghetti noodles) dinner and we all toasted our toes, drank sake and port and told silly jokes(really silly-we had to ban poop as a subject-much to Jason’s chagrin).
More show pics here.
It’s almost here!
If you’re in Seattle May 18th, come and see what my three month long painting frenzy has yielded.
Sunday, May 18th, 1 to 6pm
You are joyously invited to ‘Invoking Drala’ at the Little Red Studio Gallery. The art of Zan Edson and Sophie Brunet.
Trees, roots, rocks, earth, water… The natural world calls me and collects me, bringing my often furiously swirling human mind back to the moment, back to the breath filling my chest, the ferns tickling my legs, the warm rock, or rough bark against my cheek.
In celebration of this intimate, priceless, abundant, endless source of connection and in gratitude to Drala(a Tibetan word for natural magic or the spirits of nature), I’ve created a series of paintings and sculptures.
My friend Sophie Brunet will be gracing us with her Industrial series-paintings of crumbling industrial spaces-which both compliment and contrast the rooty glory of mine and remind us that beauty is also found in the least likely places.
Please come and enjoy! The opening will be from 1 to 6pm,with performances beginning at 5pm, so stop by at your leisure to peruse the art from 1 to 5 and stay if you like, for some amazing dance, music and poetry. Refreshments will be provided by Chef Kim, so they’re sure to be yummy!
Love,
Zan
Invoking Drala
Sunday, May 18th, 1 to 6pm
The Little Red Studio Gallery
406 Dexter Ave N
This ain’t crystal clear,
and I’m not about to edify you.
You think I must be angry
because ani is blasting again.
Blasting them all for me
with her mighty gun.
I’d shed some light on your confusion, dear,
but right now I’m all ears and fangs.
Cuz her confident derision
gives me hope.
And you’re gonna have to roll with it
if you have the balls.
Just step back and
leave me happily ferocious.
Skin prickles,
head throbs.
Hot and wired,
sweet sparks
fly tonight.
Such magnificent bounty!
bursting incandescent,
filling me up,
more than
I can possibly contain.
Burning with delight or,
perhaps, fever caught
jumping the fence
to bring my sick neighbor
birthday turtles.
Lay down girl,
lay down, child.
Let your head explode
into the welcoming arms
of the velvet night.
Gather it,
squeeze it,
bend it to your will.
Shape it, round,
smooth and taut.
Push it up against your palm.
Smack
’til it whimpers for release
and then…
Deny you had anything to do with it.