Fighter

to fight is to stand

(water color on paper  -  8 x 8 in.)

based on a song by Tina Colón, with lyrics by Alysia Harris, which were written about a photograph by Marilyn de Guehery [ ECV Artist Circle]

*sorry about the bad lighting/color (will post a new picture soon)

"No matter what you take by force,

you'll never change who I am,

woman by birth, warrior by choice,

I am not a helpless lamb.

I know enough to know

things don't always go

the way you've planned,

but even in the hardest times,

sometimes all you can do to fight

is stand."

-Alysia Harris

SLOW DOWN

"Slow down or you'll miss people"

Chalking on Sidewalk (with Carmen Thunem)

10 ft x 3 ft

Cross Campus, Yale, New Haven, CT

recent watercolors

isaiah 54:10

for elizabeth marshman

"Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed,
yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken
nor my covenant of peace be removed,"
says the LORD, who has compassion on you.

watercolor on paper

6 in. x 4 in.

"grasshoppers are worshippers"

for gideon =) and alyssa

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6 in. x 4 in.

florida palm tree

watercolor on paper

4 in. x 6 in.

jungle scene

Jungle Scene

watercolor on paper

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this too shall pass

This Too Shall Pass

watercolor on paper

(12 x 4 in.)

an obituary for music

[inspired by a conversation with Professor Michael Veal, during which he proposed a theory of the death of contemporary music at the hands of its own industry...]

/meant as a spoken-word piece/

Dearly beloved,

we regret to announce today

the loss of a great mother,

a much-loved lover,

both a teacher and friend to all;

our own

dear

Music.

She died at the end of a long and strenuous struggle with an undetermined condition,

plagued by ambition and unabated individuality,

a pathology of apathy and ignorance;

it crept up on her,

slowly eating away at her core until

her hollow shell collapsed

as it gasped for air,

strangled by the need and greed of an industry where what is fair

is never enough.

Once welcomed and nurtured in communities,

her originality was imprisoned in an ipodic industry,

squeezed and suffocated into headphones and sound-bytes

and shuffles and repeats

until her heart was forgotten

and it beat slower

and slower

and slower.

And as she struggled to find the strength to hold together

her family,

her humanity,

they replaced her graceful limbs with prosthetic technology

trusting artificiality where they couldn't understand reality--

They fed her to the next generation

true beauty coated in plastic mechanizations,

manufactured pleasurebytes

like parasites

radioed across the sky,

and orchestra repertories, leftover from past generations

and indecipherable 'originality', like an elite contagion,

and exoticized cultural exhibitions...

Music

became a stranger,

foreign,

historical,

commercial,

racist, sexist, nationalist, and violent,

coerced into a prostitution for which she wept,

a slave to someone else's fear.

And she might as well have been dead--

for they forgot what her voice sounded like,

or how to wonder at her face

or how to hear her melodies amidst the clattering and crashing and commotion

of an attention-starved world,

overdosing on addictive, hormone-inducing sound...

One, five, six, four,

They flattened her like unseen wallpaper,

trampled on her like linoleum floors,

and in the few hollow corners where she found herself safe,

tenderly cared for, as a dying plant,

someone watching was reveling in the wonder of new life growing out of old conversations,

even as the cold wind creeping against the window pane

made us all shudder,

and wonder

where was the sunlight where she could grow to next?

And what hands would care for

her frail body,

greying as it neared final rest?

It wasted away,

just skin and bones, worn by years,

and the abuse of unrequited love and compassion.

Her loved ones began to lose their way,

they compared themselves to each other,

arguing over the gifts they'd been given,

as young children argue about 'fairness' at Christmas...

and hate and jealousy crept through the walls,

like destructive cracks in a slow demolition;

and autotune engineered away their self-esteem,

and they were rendered voiceless

unable to trust themselves to hit the right notes

or have the grace to listen to what they sing.

She leaves behind a few scattered children,

and the gifts she's given,

nurtured by friendships that meet late at night

behind closed doors

and off lonely highways,

flourishing in harmony and laughter

finding perfection in flawed dissonance

and joy in a process of learning

to grow.

There will be no funeral.

In lieu of flowers, there is no cause to donate to.

Only one lonely man,

sitting on a wooden crate

as he plays his acoustic guitar into the noisy street,

will sing her a eulogy into the wind,

making rhythm between guitar and car engine,

strings and birds and electricity lines

that harmonize

to his rusty cry of grief.

But everyone will pass him by,

leaving him unnoticed,

with their ipods turned up full blast

oblivious

to the death

of music.

unfinished doodle

Unfinished Doodle

(on a paper plate)

kingdom love

[orig. written june 15, 2010]

intended for spoken performance with two voices (every other stanza)

you are my God

the King majestic

enthroned in the incomprehensible

pillars of fire

and billows of smoke

i stand before your awesome power

in terror

i fall to my knees,

i shield my eyes

i curl up, i tremble, i am silenced,

i am humbled before--

you... lead the most powerful armies

heading the charge

and they bow to you

they obey you

with the utmost respect and deference

of which you are so worthy.

all that i know and see is but a thought in your head,

i am so small...

you have created my entire world with mere words

in the palms of your hands

in but a few days

yet so carefully and thoughtfully...

you have created my life with your breath

yet with such compassion...

i am a masterpiece.

i am good and i am beautiful.

you have created

with...

your voice- is so powerful

that i might die

when you speak it is so intense

that four words might rip apart nothingness

and create

something-

let

there

be

light my way, Lord

for you are my guide,

your lamp shines upon each step i am to take as i quake in the dark.

sure and faithful

never lost, never losing me

you have your own plans,

but you know them

so surely

a sure path, straight, narrow, narrowing

i follow, my guide, my light.

the shadows close in but your flame shines

ever brighter

and it dances

and it sets my heart on fire

beating rapidly like butterflies wings

passionately like impressionist painters lost in the storms of emotions and uncertainty.

the King...

...of the universe

is pursuing me.

he loves me

he chases me

he woos me

he charms me...

my freshly unbrokenheart racing in romance--

you make me feel like a queen-- or a princess,

the apple of your eye,

i am most beautiful and most beloved

an adored and known cinderella...

and we are more intimate than anything hollywood can sell

you hold me close

enfold me in your arms,

i lean against your chest and i can hear your heart beat

smell your presence, comfy, close...

your words fill my mouth - the most desperate and beautiful and heart wrenching kiss

and i am so close to you

you know me

deeply

you love me

more than i could ever know or understand

and i am falling

falling

falling in love...

...with my best friend,

who teases me until i laugh,

who knows my quirks,

you humor me, make humor of me, until i have to smile.

my best bud,

who lets me dream the impossible and encourages me to try to fly and when i cry,

there are hugs

as you grieve with me and hurt with me and weep with me...

of the love languages, you're fluent in all five.

you give the best gifts,

miles of sky and gazillions of flowers

and we always have the most quality time,

because you never leave my side

you tell me what i can't see in myself

and bring out the best

and you serve, you serve,

you serve...

until by death you save you save and you are my HERO.

i was drowning and you dragged me above the surface,

i was suffocating and you gave me fresh air

i was in chains and you shattered them

i was in a cage and you melted the bars

you found me and set me free.

i was in sin, hiding my face,

and you bore God's forsakenness on my behalf

superhuman pain and profound suffering

the tragic beauty of heroic sacrifice

you saved the world in a way even comic books couldn't imagine,

you're redeeming the brokenness,

bridging the breaks,

washing me,

purifying me...

and you are teaching me to be whole

growing me like a tendershoot in the ground

feeding me, watering me, conversing with me

your words are my textbooks

your saints are my tutors

and you love when i count and underline and take notes in the margins and ask

the hard questions

and when they are the wrong questions

you give the right answers to better questions

like the best teacher,

most knowledgeable

most patient

you let me discover the truth myself,

you give me spaces to grow, to flourish, to be rooted,

you root for me

you let me explore

and talk

and make mistakes

but you give out grace like extensions like water

and your textbooks are always free.

all of creation is what we study

your heart and your mind

and i never grow out of learning about you

i never graduate

i will never find myself knowing more than...

you are my leader

my shepherd

i would vote for you in any election

campaign for you as president

trust your laws as legislator

respect you as head of state

support your verdicts as judge

because your justice sees more than rights and fairness

you defend the oppressed

you destroy the system

but you love us all

your authority is unconquerably powerful

and recklessly compassionate

the liberty you fight for is true freedom from everything

give me liberty or give me death... death...

give me liberty from this death

from this brokenness

in my sickness you

heal me, Lord

wholeness drips from you like water

wellness overflows from you

pain and injury

distress and depression

as tears become seams,

speak them from me, Lord

a mere word, a mere touch

and i am whole,

a precious child brought before her father

father

father

i run to you

to share my delights

to cry and then forget why

my scraped knees and curiosities

my broken hearts and busted parts and my total wonder

you give small advice

you provide when i'm not watching

you love me

unconditionally

father

father

our father

above all things

your name is holy

kingdom come, your will be done

here and in heaven, now and to come

forgive us,

and let us always be forgiving and seeking forgiveness

sustain us,

help us to trust your provision;

you know what we need

before we speak;

protect us

from temptation

from evil

from brokenness

you rule above all

in your unfathomable power

all glory be yours now and evermore.

amen.