March Arts Marathon:
March Arts Marathon 2023 Final Gallery
Art work, writing or music not to be reproduced without the artist’s, writer’s or composer’s permission.
Visual Gallery
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Writing Gallery
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Margaret Blanchard
Margaret Blanchard
Sarah Franklin Curls in the Grass All four of us were curly heads, our summer haircuts administered in the backyard on the black step stool in the shadow of the barn, the rugosa roses in bloom on the fencing. Nancy went first and knew just what she wanted, a pixie cut. Her shears snipping from odd angles, Mother meticulously obliged. Nancy pecked her cheek and was off. Pete next, just wanted it to be over, shifted, brushed at the prickly cut hair stuck in the neck of his tee shirt, hopped on his bike and was gone. My turn. Would I like a big girl hair cut, my mother wondered? It would be much cooler, she said, and I nodded, took the ribbon off my pony tail. Won’t the birds be glad of all these curls, Mother asked, brushing out my long unruly hair. No sound is like shears cutting through dense hair, no kiss on the back of the neck is more welcome than the one given the third child. I think you’ll love it, Mother whispered, scrunching my short curls into compliance. And now, can you help steady Barbara on the stool? How short should we go with our little one, do you think? Hmm? Mother asked, kissing Barbara’s forehead and pulling gold cuttings from her comb, dropping them on the darker curls in the grass. I imagine curl-lined nests. —Sef, 3/21/‘23
Angela Grace March 16th Welcome Family and Friends, Alright, enough lollygagging around all day and sweating (and napping) in front of the wood stove.I had another association enter my head with my photo of a fallen tree lovingly supported by others nearby and the Pieta by Michelangelo.
Not my photo The Pieta, (1498-1499) according to Wikipedia, is a marble sculpture depicting the dead body of Jesus after his crucifiction, draped over the lap of his Mother Mary as she looks at him with a restrained and calm grief. The sculpture resides in St. Peter's Basilica in Vatican City in Rome, Italy and is worth $300 million. It is the only piece that Michelangelo signed, and as a deeply faithful person, later felt signing was a lack of humility. The important idea to me is that Michelangelo wanted the sculpture to represent peace and hope. That death is not the end and should not be heart wrenching for us and the people who love us. Maybe this is a message for me? Pieta means compassion. This is how I feel about all the fallen trees in the forest held up by other trees. The support is an act of love and not accidental. All the trees repeated in this tableau are in a way still living and contributing. In As We Can Be. E. A. Poe writes; "The boundaries which divide life from death are at best shading and vague. Who shall say where one ends and where the other begins?" I believe we are connected at creation and remain so forever. Love, Angie
Angela Grace March 18th Welcome Family and Friends,Welcome Family and Friends,
Badly drawn (Tried to stay to the line of the tree. Just a rough draffe.) giraffe caught in the cross hairs at the first rest stop in Vermont out of New Hampshire. Even the most simple thing can bring us joy. Love, Angie
Angela Grace March 23rd Hello Family and Friends SCRABBLE My husband Dave and I have a continuous, standing, honor system, Upwards Scrabble game going 24/7. We each have a similar cow figurine to set on the board when we have played to let the other person know it's their turn. How do we tell the cows apart? Mine is old. It has been lost, found, chewed on by some animal, unsteady and generally in bad shape, like me, but useful. I do not need young and shiny. An Upwards Scrabble game is played similar to regular Scrabble except a player can build UP with the letter tiles as high as five high and change the meaning of the word. There is no letter count, just the number of tiles.The letter value doesn't matter. I won't go into all the rules and if you don't know how to play Scrabble skip to the end that says "Love, Angie." Now, we stand as we play because the game board is on a waist high bookcase easily accessible to facilitate playing as we go by. Usually I play early in the morning and my husband late at night. If we are sleeping, the clacking tiles semi wake you and one sleeps on fitfully trying to wake up enough to take our turn so as not to let the other person feel superior. Occasionally we forget to play for several days and that is when the cows become rambunctious, moo loudly and pass a little gas to get our attention. We have been doing this for years and we never sit down to play any more. It makes life worth living. Dave and I are fairly equal in wins and losses so that makes it fun. He has a better vocabulary than I do but I'm more persistent. What's the point here and what does it have to do with dead trees supporting life? Well, our paperback Scrabble Dictionary has to be replaced often, see photo, and we have probably used up all the trees in Northern Vermont. Come join us anytime. We'll let you win.Love, Angie
Patty Joslyn
Patty Joslyn
Patty Joslyn
Axie Noyes
Axie Noyes
Jane Wohl I am thinking of lambs Today I am thinking of lambs; and they way they are born in the spring, sometimes in the safety of barns and lambing sheds, and sometimes, how, after they are born, and bouncing on their springing little legs, they follow their sheared mothers out into the prairie, the open pastures, the rolling hills of open range, as trusting as any new borns, and then, there’s that spring blizzard. Months later, we find their little bones after the snow has melted, and the spring rains have ceased, we find their little bones, scattered by coyotes, in the slowly greening draws. Jane E Wohl March 29, 2023
Jane Wohl Jesuits name Asteroids “Centuries of Stargazing leave Jesuit Names Written in the Heavens” New York Times headline March 23, 2023 That asteroids now bear the names of some of us is immaterial. What matters is how we wonder at how little we know about the sky, the stars, those pinpoints of light breaking through the darkness. We thank Galileo daily for speaking truth about our sun, our little earth. Each clear night raise our eyes the holy and inscrutable firmament. Jane Wohl March 23, 2023
Jane Wohl Just for Today Just For Today: a series of Lunes Just for today I will pack my suitcase. Spring break’s done. Just for today I will fold the laundry Pack the shirts Just for today I will read Church History And enjoy it. Just for today I will return to New York Where cherries bloom Just for today I will hug my granddaughter She’s so lovely Just for today I will praise hot water And my shower. Just for today I will hear the crows In the cemetery. Just for today I will look for crocuses Before I leave. Just for today Jane E Wohl March 20, 2023
Lucy Morris
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Audio/Video Gallery
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Sarah Franklin Gone Limbic A reading. The poem's text can be found below this video.Gone Limbic Shame & Blame, never a game, never tame, always the same. Watch out! For example, should one win fame, likely the other flames out with blame, and that triggers shame, first for the victim, and later, for a conscientious perpetrator. Beware! Another round can ensue. My frame? Name it ‘Lizard Brain.’ Both cause and consequence. Solution? Move out. Don’t dwell in that ancient part of your brain, home to the Toxic Two: Blame & Shame. —Sef, 2/27/2023, Revised 3/19/’23
Sarah Franklin Forecast— Cloudy A reading. The poem's text can be found below this video. Forecast— Cloudy The old woman is trying to understand why her computer’s screen display changed so suddenly. She knows it has something to do with the cloud, but she is afraid the cloud will begin to charge her money she doesn’t have for these messages she needs to send. She is unsure whether any of those to whom she sends her messages actually read them, but she works at crafting them carefully, tries to make them lively, helpful, even immediate, illuminating. She knows the world is changing fast, that what she has learned about it seems quaint to most of the young around her. Does quaint have any currency or efficacy, she wonders? She is no stranger to the act of assessing those around her, to the expediency of making distinctions. She is quite sure that quaintness and irrelevance are partners. Neither the partner she seeks. She has a small circle of church friends with whom she compares notes about living these last years—or is it months—of life and getting done the essential tasks for a tidy exit. She finds that having a conversation with her next of kin about these matters is never timely. And never is the time frame that seems most likely. Perhaps she can leave them a message. —Sef, 3/ 27/‘23
Ruth Coppersmith
Darwin Melchiorre Tunnel Vision (Working Title) If you want to see the full project it will be on my YouTube at some point in the next few months. https://www.youtube.com/@darwinmelchiorre9302
Linzy Lyne How She Loved the Roses Read Lyrics Below
How She Loved the Roses Oh how she loved the roses Their scent upon the breeze Her loving thoughts like petals Became her memories She went to close the window To keep the fumes outside But then he aimed the tear gas And all the people cried Oh how she loved the roses Their colours and their scent And how her life was ended When she was innocent Oh won't you send her roses Their scent upon the breeze Drifting through her window Her loving memories.
Linzy Lyne Ocean of Song Read Lyrics Below
Ocean of Song I've set my sail for the deepest ocean Set my course for the furthest sea Cast off, cast off With heightened emotions Seeking the song that is calling for me Cresting a wave, hear how the whale sings I'm weaving dreams of musical pearls Hold on hold on To the love that my song brings Where it awaits at the end of the world Somewhere beneath the waves' foaming motion My perfect song is calling to me Hold on hold on For my song of the ocean Is every song that will ever be.
Lucy Morris The video shares the joy of my little cat Sophia https://youtube.com/shorts/tCLAH4gfFys?feature=share
What an amazing bunch of talented creative generous souls! Honored to be among them. Thank you to all. So so grateful to have been a part of this year’s March Arts Marathon.