Fabric of dawn III

Fabric of dawn III

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I don't know what comes first. The words, the feeling, the colors. Or just all of it intertwined as a braid. Building the whole picture. Sometimes it's a reflection of sun on snow, sometimes a word, a gesture. Or the smell of coffee in a place called home. There is usually a spark and that's where I start.

 

These paintings where not inspired by the poem Sunrise, by Mary Oliver. I made them and then the poem surfaced in my mind. Or maybe it was just there all along, the words, I just didn't notice. I love the process like this. Just letting go of the idea of what something should be - and just let it happen. Let mind, spirit, heart and hand braid themselves into a beautiful whole.

 

Mixed media 50x70

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S U N R I S E

You can

die for it -

an idea,

or the world. People


have done so,

brilliantly,

letting

their small bodies be bound


to the stake,

creating

an unforgettable

fury of light. But


this morning,

climbing the familiar hills

in the familiar

fabric of dawn, I thought


of China,

and India

and Europe, and I thought

how the sun


blazes

for everyone just

so joyfully

as it rises


under the lashes

of my own eyes, and I thought

I am so many!

What is my name?


What is the name

of the deep breath I would take

over and over

for all of us? Call it


whatever you want, it is

happiness, it is another one

of the ways to enter

fire.