SEPTEMBER 2021First Friday September 3rd at Remarque
PAPER DOLLS: Evolution and Articulation
Remarque Print Workshop, 3812 Central Avenue SE 100B
Opening First Friday, September 3, 5-8pm
September 1-October 30—Gallery Hours: Friday & Saturday, 10am-6pm and by appointment
Vicki’s paper collages are shown below
Expanded Exhibit Space at Little Bird
Open on First Friday, September 3rd, 5-8pm
Richard the poet will be hosting
Open every Saturday 10am-4pm as well as every First Friday 5-8pm
During our recent ‘opcation’ we witnessed one opera that personified everything that I adore about art. It was the world premiere of The Lord of Cries, a tale of Dionysian frenzy with the veneer of the Dracula myth as a textural overlay. It contained all the sets, sounds, story, and costuming that one expects from opera, with the added punch of an intellectual nuance that one does not encounter in a Mozart opera.
Layered nuance is what both Vicki and I do in our respective art forms, in her multi-quilted printmaking
and in my word-pieces. We both endeavor to create something that will have the longevity of “The Marriage of Figaro” or “A Midsummer”s Night Dream,” which we also saw at our opera week. It is always encouraging when someone notices how different shapes relate to the coloration in Vicki’s art or in my poetry.
Or even in my comedy performances.
Poetry exists as a way for us to deal with the fact that we all have an expiration date and they are all at different days and times. We honor those who leave and those who stay with our words.
This one is for Julie Suzanne Brokken who was a poet and an artist, so from Vicki’s side and my side,
a love homage for Julie.
ELEGY FOR JULIE
The primrose edge of tomorrow,
a cut that often entered your cognizance,
time that offers solace to aging memories,
the soothsayers called you priestess of Padua.
Art tasting of patience and predilections,
only bluejays resist the temptation of your nest,
the testament of talent is manifest in the now,
your slalom shadow knows no resistance.
True enmity grows in the absence of your tears,
the best rest sweetly while tragedy sleeps,
a moment of calm upon your arrival,
your departure sucks out the sweet bird of youth.
All the feathers you have ever known
sit like silence in the beatific smile.
Goodnight sweet prince.