May 30th, 2011 Doug
Beautiful response to my drawing ‘Late August On The Coast’ by writer Barbara Boethling,
who lives in Huntington Beach. California.
Homecoming
Slowly appearing from out of nowhere,
gulls come carving stories
in thrilling fluid lines across the sky. These
sky lines, only tenuous scripts, are
written by the shapes of wings formed and flexing
in brisk beats, and by feathers
upon birds stirring the colors of the clouds. And the
Clouds, once content with wearing soft and mild grays,
in being thus aroused, now blend in every other somber shade.
Below those clouds, drifting seaside dunes
Slowly unfurl their beautiful white bodies of sand
to restrain the wind scoured land that is poised beside them.
Those coastal hills pull back their hunched shoulders, straightening for a moment
to peer around the sea grass covered dunes
toward the pounding surf. They wait
to celebrate the ancient rites of those that stay behind,
and are unbearably eager to reach out and pull the sojourners close,
and whisper to the returning sea bird
“We are glad to have you back again.”
Posted in Poetry From Art, Writing Our Way Home |
May 21st, 2011 Doug
More new poetry inspired by the Pocket Noost, and featured on the Writing Our Way Home group ‘Poetry From Art’.
The poets are (in order of appearance) Christopher James Heyworth, Jules Paige and Barbara Boethling.
CHURCH FLATTS FARM (Prose Poem)
Norma, the daughter, would tease Trevelyan about how he’d fish
for the tobacco tin from the poacher’s pocket deep within his coat.
“Why’d'you rattle, fisherboy?” she’d prod, her finger at his chest.
He’d half-hide the tin from her until she consented to a peck on the
cheek, then let it rest on his palm while he opened the lid. “Pa said,”
he’d say, revealing the bed of rounded pebbles, “to carry home with
me everywhere. These are from Padstow Strand,” of the bed of tiny
pebbles, a perfect miniature rowboat resting on them, in the tin’s base.
And in the lid waves painted real as if the boat could float. “Pa’s work,”
Trevelyan said, “right here in landlocked Derbyshire, my sweet.”
Note: according to Ordnance Survey, Church Flatts Farm near Coton in
Derbyshire is the point on the British mainland furthest from the sea.
Foltsam
My dad he was a Navy man
Long before I came along
I only know he loved the sea~
Eventually his ashes were spread there
Perhaps that is why I too love the water so
If I had gills I’d join the mere-folk in warmer climes
My dad he was a Navy man
I’ve photos of him in his white sailor cap
And for his wedding he wore his dress blues
Though in sepia tones it’s hard to tell the hue
Perhaps because my ol’ man loved the water so
I’ve got a creek near my land that I try to claim as my own
My dad he was a Navy man
Then so young and free
Served in a peace time behind the scenes
Eventually land and responsiblity claimed him
Perhaps that is why he resolved to say little
Lost on the ground, his heart still afloat
My dad he was a Navy man
Long before I was born
I only know he loved the sea ~
Eventually his ashes were spread there…
Caught Out
The old boatman’s blades
sliced through each wave
and for the briefest space
the angry brine, surprised, was beaten down,
and denatured.
Terrible strength restored,
the next great oscillation of that stormy ocean
lifted the unlucky craft upon another crest
and propelled it along the path
of the squally wind which roared
from out of the towering clouds on the dark horizon.
Undaunted, he fought the sea alone,
his chosen weapons straining muscles, good oak oars,
and his salty persiflage with he who was in charge,
Poseidon.
Unexpectedly, he found he had gained
The rain soaked shingle of his own home shore,
So turned his practiced weather eye skyward,
Winked, and with a sigh felt grateful
He’d survived once more.
Posted in Collaborations, Guest Post, Writing Our Way Home, poetry |
May 18th, 2011 Doug
As part of the Writing Your Way Home website, I have created a group to encourage the members to use art as the stimulus for writing new poetry.
For the first post, I used my Pocket Noost assemblage as the start point for the poets. This piece has been used by award-winning poet Pascale Petit in her Poetry From Art workshops. Here is the first poem, written by Jem from The Sound Of Splinters blog, based in West Sussex.
in high winds
the boat tin rattles
eager to release
memories held within
the sound of hail
on a caravan roof
a choosing a poem
about the sea
for her to read
at her mother’s funeral
her mother always
chewed a nutmeg
kept ever-ready in her pocket
swore it did her no harm
while mine took blue pills
against seasickness
except on that school trip
up the Thames and back
where she embarrassed me
Watch out for regular updates from the Poetry From Art group, here on The Net Mender.
Posted in AROS, Collaborations, Guest Post, poetry |
May 15th, 2011 Doug
As part of the inaugural ARTournament festival, being held over the weekend of 16th-19th August 2012 in Gloucester, I have been invited to create a series of twelve assemblages called the ‘Pocket Museums’.
The assemblages, which will feature images and tales of the historic city of Gloucester and the surrounding area of the Severn, will be exhibited at a selection of city centre venues , including the Folk Museum pictured above, and will form a small art trail for the public to follow.
Each of these art works will be a small ‘pocket’ sized exhibit, and will be sited in a suitable venue for the theme of the piece. I have always enjoyed making small, more intimate pieces of work such as the ‘Pocket Noost’ pictured below, and they have always proved popular with my audiences both at exhibitions and on the website. It sets me a challenge as an artist to create work which will have to fit in well with the atmosphere of the chosen venue.
Over the next few months I will be making research and collecting trips to Gloucester and its surrounding area, getting a feel for the venues to be used, and building up a resource of ideas and images to feed into the Pocket Museums. Watch out on the blog for future posts on the works and other aspects for the ARTournament event.
Posted in Collecting and researching, Event, Exhibitions |
