EKPHRASIS | Ekphrastic writing seeks to give visual art a second life, to describe it, extend it, deepen it. Our experience of visual art is shaped by what it is we seek, whether viewing it or creating it, and the personal and social connections it elicits or those connections we wish to express, as well our readiness to be moved, our state of mind, our emotional state, all of which we may choose to describe, analyze, share, speak and write about; and indeed, we often do.
These are the images that stirred in me a need to write, to explore or amplify feelings and ideas, or that resonated with particular passages from my reading in literature. In some cases, the writing came first.
How to Express The Need To Flee
How do I express this need to flee? This need to stay? To remember unfinished conversations? To witness with you the passing of time? It is the body I sleep with, wake with, mine and yours, that are open to the ecstasy of the snow falling on a...
A Moment of Whispers
It comes, a moment whispering. Trees in the deepening stillness of dusk. Their pale silhouettes seemingly weightless. Rising in a fading light. Shadows in the snow. A day's ending palimpsest on winter parchment.[modula_gallery...
What is Light
What is light? Felt, measured, created, photographed, painted, it's like anything else, like love or envy. Something private. Something not. Something in shadow. Something open. Something seen. Something not. [modula_gallery...
Infinity’s Mockery
The rushing wind is oblivious of the roiling leaves, or of the light dragging the shadows through the trees, or of our stories, the fusions of self and place, the iterations of mind, these expressionist forms, here, the buried matrices of time and...
Easter Ended as We Drove
Easter ended as we drove home on the interstate, the moon nearly full and rising. Even the boys commented on it, a preternaturally large, grey mass lying low in the sky, an old coin. A bead rubbed smooth over the millennia. A hard, airless world...
The Roots of Awareness
In each of us, There are faces hidden, Yet to be seen, Yet to be justified,Moment to moment, Joy, fear, beauty, suffering, cruelty, —Phylogenetic forcesRooted in entropy’s temporary defeats. The drive to survive. Emergence of the other, then of...
Doorway?
Perhaps this is the memory of a doorway, or the sound of rain and the morning mist infused with light, or leaving and absence.
Echoes of Another Life
Emerging in this liminal space,
A boundless before-time.
A floor, a doorway, a face.