studio

where do the poems go when life barrels instead of meandering towards Bang Whimper I sigh uninspired and indifferent (indifference – that ancient armour) hiding from life behind nothing at all where are the poems? in the ice edged puddles in the ice splintered trees

…I would choose just this light, colour palette, composition, and texture (all while humming Norah Jones’ Painter Song.) Instead my camera made what my eye found in Cobourg Harbour, the silent rivalry between the March sun and the long winter’s ice.

I have edited and corrected (and edited and corrected) the text for the memoir of my father and his ranch and now need to reweave the two narratives more tightly to make it “more enticing” for the reader. The only way I know how to start this process is visually…like rearranging the chairs in a

…or the entrails. Or palms, tarot, dreams, horoscopes, ouija, bumps on the head, even statistics. We need to know and so we predict, though we mostly fail to take lessons from such predictions. And so we seek to prophesy again. This is my haruspex, oracle, prophet, sibyl, augur, seer. What will she read and what

A Conversation with https://merkatart.substack.com/ Merkat: …I sit typing, milking the last drops of serotonin from my brain in order to stay afloat.  Are you in the same boat? Let’s ward off scurvy together. A lime for your January thoughts. Mia:  I used to embrace my inner brown bear and crave winter hibernation. That bear is

Haleakala Crater, Maui, 9740 Ft. L-R Jackie, Vicky, Anne-Marie (Mia), Lyn When we (on the left) were young, and visited the Rocky Mountains in the summer, The Three Sisters were always pointed out. Hey, that’s us! Then in 2004 we met Lyn, our oldest sister, a secret since childhood. Now we have another mountain, Haleakala,

… without writing a word. What I did on my summer vacation: Book Art with Holly Dean (Art + Play) offered in Port Hope by Loyalist College as part of their new summer arts program. We had a week of mixed media fun learning on the one hand to let go of measuring, overthinking, and

Yesterday’s Art Salon was a little Contemplative Photography field trip to the Cobourg Ecology garden and the salvage littered brownlands behind Legacy. Vicky forgot her camera bag and was reduced to using her old iPhone camera. I was using my old film camera. Vicky shares my disdain for trying to photograph something with only a