Thursday, February 21, 2019

Collaboration #5, a collaborative flash series with Colleen Davick

No photo description available.




Wake up, move these tired bones
Sometimes if I have to do the same thing one more time
I’ll scream, and at other times
I can’t take one more new thing or
I’ll explode, it is the dynamic
Of life, the tension of old and new
The familiar versus sudden revelation
The paradox that within brilliant sunlight
There is a bird shadow


Tuesday, February 19, 2019

Collaboration #4, a collaborative flash series with Colleen Davick

Image may contain: sky



Super moon in winter
Looking east from the terrace
Midnight blue and luminesce
Powder and smoke and clouds
Stirred up by the semi-frozen lake
Which creates its own weather.

We live in a strange and scary city
Full of ghosts and the visages of
Time past, full of memories
Of summer, chilling on the
Terrace in shorts and sandals
            Watching the moon filter the sky

Monday, February 18, 2019

Collaboration #3, a collaborative flash series with Colleen Davick

Image may contain: people sitting and outdoor




Black and white
After parking the car
On a lonely Sunday night
I pause, breathe in frost and ice
A single porch light
Casting elongated picket shadows
How can I sing, How can I write—
  With all this quiet beauty

Friday, February 15, 2019

Collaboration #2, a collaborative flash series with Colleen Davick

Image may contain: sky, skyscraper and outdoor


You wonder: Why am I awake at this hour?

At this cold, subzero dawn.
Slowly the distant stars fade, and a pale casting of light
Rises between the buildings. A low hum from
Lake Shore Drive plays behind hesitant birdsong.
Even the sparrows are subdued, fighting against headwinds,
Head colds, hungover from their desperate struggle to survive.
We all have our balancing act, teetering on the brink
Of a new morning.

Wednesday, February 13, 2019

Collaboration #1, a collaborative flash series with Colleen Davick

Image may contain: sky, cloud, ocean, mountain, outdoor and nature

Landscape No. 3, Cash Entry Mines, New Mexico


After spending 18 months in New Mexico, Marsden Hartley returned to New York in 1919, but he continued to paint the Southwest from memory. My friend Colleen is flying today from New Mexico back to Chicago. She is an artist of the cellphone camera. In 2011 I spent a week in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico at Starry Night Artist Retreat. I returned home to continue to create from memory. Leaving one place for another doesn’t erase our longing, our desire to connect to a landscape, the people we love and miss. True art speaks to our emotions, to the sublime within us.

Today it is 1 below with windchill—I reach back in my memories to the night I rode my bike down dark T or C streets to a hot spa. I eased my tired body into the natural pool and soaked in the minerals letting go of stress and self-doubt. For a little while.

Monday, February 11, 2019



Notes on a Flash Series

col·lab·o·ra·tion/
noun
the action of working with someone to produce or create something.
"he wrote on art and architecture in collaboration with John Betjeman"
synonyms:
cooperationalliancepartnershipparticipationcombinationassociationconcert;

I’ve always dreamed of working in collaboration with another artist. Writing is such a solitary discipline. But what would collaboration look like?

My friend and fellow bootcamper Colleen Davick is a Renaissance woman in that she has her hand in many pots. An avid Gaelic speaker, a spooky flutist, green room hostess, booker of concerts, likes to hang out, always ready for a road trip, and takes awesome pictures with her camera.

What if we did a thing together?

So here we are in the second month of 2019 and I feel it’s time: We collaborate.

Starting next week for one week she will post a pic on Facebook (or a few) and I will respond by writing a flash essay inspired by the picture.

That’s the rules. There will be no boundaries on what she takes and we will not “arrange” or coordinate a theme. Her picture/my words/one week.

Ready, set, go.

https://www.facebook.com/cdavick

Image may contain: sky, tree and outdoor

Friday, February 8, 2019

40 Years Ago

Khomeini waves to followers as he appears on the balcony of his headquarters in Tehran on February 2, 1979.
February 1, 2019 marks the 40th year of Ayatollah Khomeini’s return to Iran from exile. What does this mean to the rest of the world?
Many leaders in the Middle East placated the West by calling for democracy and modernization—while at the same time maintaining a regime of suppression and human right abuse. Today we can point to the Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia Mohammed bin Salman bin Abdulaziz Al Saud, colloquially known as MbS. In the 1970s America supported Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, the last Shah of Iran. In 1979 the Shah abdicated his throne and Ayatollah Khomeini helped establish the Islamic Republic.

https://www.rferl.org/a/khomeini-tehran-iran/29739627.html

So what does this have to do with Appalachia, with Cloud of Witnesses? Though Cloud of Witnesses feels contemporary, it is a historical novel set 1979/1980. A sub-story in the novel has to do with a young foreign student, Hassan, from Tehran in Iran. His father came to Athens to work on the faculty of Ohio University. While in Athens the Iran Hostage Takeover (November 1979) occurs, and the resulting Crisis consumes the American media and presidential race. The day Ronald Reagan is sworn in the 52 hostages are released. As alien as his story seems from Roland’s, they are actually more alike than different. Both feel like strangers to their surroundings, each feels a bit like they are in exile from their true home, where they are supposed to be. For Hassan that would be Tehran, where the family can no longer return, and for Roland—he feels as if his destiny is to one day leave the foothills.

For many of us, we feel the same. Not always are we at “home.” Some of us yearn for something out of reach—out “there.”

At this point, after 40 years, America and Iran are still at a diplomatic impasse.