Showing posts from May, 2014

Playing with Watercolor

I keep searching for different ways to incorporate my poetry with art. I've tried mixed media and scrapbook designs as well as collage and art journal techniques. Though I have enjoyed the process and product in every one of these methods I've wanted to explore using watercolors.

Till now I haven't been able to get the right blending of different colors and the right balance between transparency and the intensity of color that I want. After a few tries I finally discovered that the trick of blending is to paint wet-on-wet and getting the right color depth is just a matter of trial and error, being careful not to end up with a muddy effect.

I like the idea of adding some stencil work for detail and will continue to try different designs and patterns. I also want to experiment with layers of materials and background stamps and stencils to get more depth to the finished pictures. I'll keep working at it and try different things to see which I like best but my ultimate goal …


pink and yellow
flower fans
wave to the sun

I am beginning a new collection of poetry and plan to add even more art than I had in "I am My Mother's Only Poem." One section of poems will be titled "Arboretum" and will incorporate photographs of flowers and scenes from our trips to the Bayard Cutting Arboretum in Oakdale. The poems will focus on my connection to nature as a spiritual path.

The photo above was taken of batches of daffodils and tulips that were quite abundant when we visited on Mother's Day. It prompted a haiku I wanted to share with you as a bit of sneak peak at the book that is merely in a fetal stage at the moment.

Flowers, sunshine, the dramatic light of a clouded afternoon, along with misty paths, magical herons, and sunning turtles, will grace the pages of the Arboretum section of this upcoming poetry collection. Along the border of the arboretum is the Connetquot River whose power and gentility run together showing us just one of nature's…

Book Contest Giveaway

Today's the day!
I want to give away 2 copies of my book "I am My Mother's Only Poem"
The date is 5/23 so I will send a book to the fifth and twenty third person to comment on the blog.
Since this is all about poetry I will also send a bookmark to the winners if they add a poem to the comment.
I'll be looking for your comments!


The word inspire:
~~ to inhale
~~ to fill someone with the desire to create

So many people approach writers and artists with the question, "where do you get your ideas?" While I do understand why they want to know where stories, paintings, poems, sculptures come from the question still amazes me. That's because ideas seem to find me, rather than my having to seek them in the world around me.

Writers find ideas in places like

a budding floweran overheard conversationa news articleanother story or poemdreamsimagesFor me they come fast and furious all the time. And I find that the more ideas I have the more I get. It's a self priming pump of images, words, thoughts, beliefs, and yes dreams too. Just this morning ideas followed me, causing me to be late leaving for work as I had to jot them down in my inspiration journal or on post-its that I am never without. Because though ideas come to me easily and unbidden they are ephemeral and disappear like clouds on a sunny day. They…

Spring thaw

It's been a tremendously long and frigid winter. Spring has been cool and rainy, stretching out the weeks of torture toward warm sunshine. But Mother's Day brought wonderful warmth and sun and last weekend Mother Nature finally shone her light full force and covered us with the warm blanket of her love. 

Trees are budding and flowers are blossoming and the birds wake bright and early to lure me from dreams with their happy songs. And all of this has drawn out the poet in me. It is bringing me back to the heart and soul of what I love--poetry and art. And returning me to this blog where I should be as I create a new poetry collection to follow "I am My Mother's Only Poem"

I feel my heart tempted by the stacks of canvas board and art journals waiting with their wonderful blank white surfaces. I feel the pull toward my bins of paint, oil pastels, rubber stamps and brushes. 

I will be back here to share new poems and ne…