Wet slap of breeze,
a pumpkin’s rotting grin
and brilliant the leaves.
Archive for the ‘poetry’ Category
Wet slap of breeze,
I remember I used to assert, perhaps I even wrote it: Everything that can possibly be painted has been painted, every brushstroke that can possibly be laid on canvas has been laid on. The visual arts are at a dead end. Then suddenly, at the age of forty, I began painting myself and am fascinated.
By having a blank canvas, I discovered I could make a picture myself. That is the point, to make a picture on a blank canvas. And I was forty before i had the real courage to try. Then it became an orgy, making pictures.
From the Halloween Insomnia Zanpress:
Though darkness may twist, torment
and cackle in my mind’s forgotten eye,
My attention is already given.
I stand in the grace of my heart’s wild ways.
“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:
wailing on the brink,
I cower before the echoing,
of my own heart.
You can see the rest of the loverly pictures here.
Aaaaaaaah, my art life is amazing right now.
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 didnâ€™t know before it happened
You brought the flower to my door
My funeral had begun
The voices intoning their concernâ€”
On the gurney you donâ€™t know
Your fate, the part of breath youâ€™ll be next hour
The mechanical magician working on my form
While I watch the rivers and brooks of my heart
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 â€¦ 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 soulâ€™s path into the great unknown.
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
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!
Sunday, May 18th, 1 to 6pm
The Little Red Studio Gallery
406 Dexter Ave N